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gordonlore · 9 months

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Bryan Seth Gordon Sr.

Bryan Seth Gordon was born in Birmingham, Alabama late into the cool summer night on April 21st, 1949, to a young sixteen-year-old girl whom he never knew besides the letter she had left him for when he turned sixteen; the age at which she gave him up. Bryan had dusty/dirty blond hair that only grew darker into a lighter brown. He also had blue eyes that would take many foster parents by storm and yet Bryan never grew up in a stable home. He was award of the state till he aged out at 18 (April 21st, 1967). He was in and out of homes, never staying anywhere long enough to form a real bond—or to hold a job. That led Bryan to enlisted himself into the military enrolling himself into boot camp. Where he spent the next eight weeks training and forming bonds between the other recruits around him. One of them, Jeremiah Ryan Holms, becoming his closest friend. The only one he opened to about his past when Jeremiah opened to him about his. When they got deployed to Vietnam Bryan and Jeremiah only grew closer and Bryan started to feel hope for his own future as the optimistic Jeremiah started to place Bryan in his future. Long talks about Jeremiah and Bryan getting a white picket fence homes next to each other, raising their families together like family. Bryan held onto that idea—that dream. That dream was destroyed quickly when the final assignment Jeremiah and Bryan were given ended horribly.

It was only eight years (May 30th, 1975) after Bryan and Jeremiah had graduated boot camp, and as the assignment started, everything went to plan, nothing out of the ordinary. Then their squad was attacked. Bryan can’t tell you what went wrong—it wasn’t anything on his squad’s actions. It was just horribly bad luck. One moment he was giving commands and the next they were ambushed, and Bryan couldn’t hear, and his vision was split in two. His heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn’t feel his leg—one of them. It was hard to tell which. It was a messy and terrifying situation. Where were his men? Where was Jeremiah? What was happening? The next thing he did know he had found his men—not a single survivor other than himself, and if he looked down, he saw the blood and the massive wound that showed bone in his left leg. He hobbled around and soon found Jeremiah. Not dead, but soon to be dead, laying not that far away and staring at the sky. What happened? Bryan saw the wounds. The one at his next and the one at his abdomen. Bryan went to stop the bleeding soon after he called in a rescue—but Jeremiah stopped his hands looking at the sky. He couldn’t speak, and his grip on Bryan’s hand was week and Bryan could completely ignore it and place pressure to try and save Jeremiah—but Bryan stopped, and then moved to hold Jeremiah’s hand till he died not soon after. Everything was a bloody and gory mess. The rescue team came and gathered him and the bodies of his men, and Jeremiah. Bryan was taken to the medic and patched up the best that they could and was eventually discharged and sent back “home” to America.

When Bryan came “home”, he had the duty of personally informing the families of the men he lost, and he volunteered himself in informing Jeremiah’s family. He needed to tell them personally. Let them know what kind of impact Jeremiah made on his family. So, when Bryan came home he immediately let Mr. and Mrs. Holms know of their son’s unfortunate end, Bryan was surprised when Jeremiah’s mother immediately brought him into a hug and practically dragged him inside. Mrs. Holms made Bryan sit down and relax, and asked Bryan if he was doing okay, if there was anything she and her family could do for Jeremiah’s best friend. Yet Bryan was so awkward he just left politely and accepted the home number Mrs. Holms gave him. Bryan ended up making his way back to Birmingham, Alabama and started to job hunt, looking for a place to live. He eventually laded a job at a local hardware store and had a one-bedroom apartment that he slowly filled with furniture. It wasn’t the life he imagined with Jeremiah, but it was what he was able to accomplish on his own. He didn’t have any desire to change how his life was going at the age of 26. Yet when he went out to drink, a habit he made that he wouldn’t shake in his lifetime, he met a 20-year-old small town USA woman with dark hair and amber eyes that nearly made him swoon out of his chair. That woman was Rebecca Victoria Roberts. Bryan would soon learn that Rebecca grew up in Mobile, Alabama her entire life and moved to Birmingham to pursue her education career. Bryan couldn’t help but offer a drink or two. A decision that would lead to major changes his life.

August 19th, 1977, Bryan and Rebecca eloped to the disapproval of Rebecca’s family, who wanted her to have a traditional wedding in their family church. Bryan and Rebecca did have a celebration of their marriage in their small three-bedroom townhouse in the southside of Birmingham. Bryan and Rebecca truthfully didn’t want to get married when they did—but the growing baby bump that was getting harder to hide; hell, they were expecting twins and Rebecca’s family made it very clear they wouldn’t help unless they married each other. So, they eloped knowing that Rebeca was not going to be able to hide her bump in any wedding dress. She was already five months along and with twins. There was only so much that could hide her bump. Their reception went well—though Rebecca’s church pastor father wouldn’t let them forget that their pregnancy was still out of wedlock—Bryan had to clench his teeth till they all went to their own hotel rooms. January 8th, 1978 came and Rebecca gave birth to twin boys. Jeremy David and Markus Ryan Gordon. Both were named after Jeremiah, something that Rebecca let Bryan do, knowing how much his one and only friend meant to them. Bryan started to soften up as he was the major caretaker of the twins for the first couple months after Rebecca had to recover from an emergency c-section. Bryan also had to reassure her worth as she wasn’t producing enough milk for both their sons, and they resorted to formula—which Rebecca’s folks couldn’t go a moment without saying how they disapprove.

Bryan wanted to go back to when he was 16 and knocking people’s heads around; but he wasn’t 16, he was 28 and working two jobs to help pay for the things babies need and the things they needed. When Jeremy and Markus became a year-old Rebecca and Bryan both agreed that they both needed to work to make this work; but they didn’t have anyone around to watch Jeremy and Markus . . . until Bryan remembered Mrs. and Mr. Holms. They were the reason Bryan had his job at the hardware store and the hardware store got him his second job as a mechanic. He reached out to them for childcare. Mrs. Holms was more than happy to watch the sweet babies while he and Rebecca worked—hell Mrs. Holms even worked at making sure Bryan and Rebecca had time to themselves. Then on March 2nd, 1980, Robert Michael Gordon was born. Named after Rebecca’s father and grandfather in an attempt to smooth things with her family. Things got tighter and tensions started to heat up between Bryan and Rebecca. With twin toddlers running around the house and a newborn in the picture things went from organized chaos to utter chaos in a manner of months. Bryan’s patients started to wear thin, but luckily for him a spot at the high school Rebecca worked at opened up for coach of the High School’s new Exy team. And all they wanted was someone to read the play book and warm the seat for a more qualified individual to take the seat. Unfortunately for the high school that person wouldn’t come for another 10 years. Bryan got a raise taking the position and to the students and the staff he and Rebecca looked like the perfect couple as they brought their three kids into the daycare together and went on about their days; sharing lunch in the staff room and leaving to drop their boys with Mrs. Holms before they got to their second jobs. Even though tensions started to heat between Bryan and Rebecca, Bryan still saw her as the women he married and the mother to his sons, and he loved her. Everything was still looking up for the family. And when April 21st, 1982, Bryan’s 33rd birthday was spent in a hospital with his three boys, four- and two-years old waiting for his fourth son to be born. It was only fitting that he be named after Bryan as the boy was born on the same date as him on 33 years apart. Bryan held Bryan jr. for the first time while Rebecca looked at them both with a smile. Bryan had grown frustrated and angry with Rebecca during her pregnancy—no, once she informed him of her pregnancy. Bryan’s anger simmered down as he started to recall his two oldest would going into kindergarten the following year. Bryan grew softer once again, but that didn’t stop him from having a drink or four before going to bed every night before coming home from work. Bryan on his days off usually involve him sitting in the living room watching the older boys play together while Rebecca takes care Bryan jr. He’s happier than he’s ever been, and he gets an image in his mind of the life Jeremiah had planned for them both and he can’t help but feel damn well close to it. That happiness didn’t last for long.

Rebecca ended up experiencing a major lost in her family. Both her mother, father, and younger brother died in a plane crash; just two months before their fifth son, Emmett Tyler Gordon, who was named for her younger brother, was born. October 23rd, 1984. Rebecca was in a deep depressive state. This frustrated Bryan more then he would admit. Not because he was concerned for her, because the school board threatened to fire Rebecca unless she started to put the same energy back into her students. They couldn’t support their family of six on a single income high school Exy coach salary. Weeks and weeks went by, and Bryan grew angrier and angrier as he watched his wife continue to go through the motions each day. Then it happened. One night, after Bryan was pulled into his boss’s office to discuss Rebecca once more, he watched Rebecca cry at the end of their bed. He was done waiting. Rebecca still had her older brothers and younger sister in her life. Bryan had no one after he lost Jeremiah and he still reported for duty with the same energy after Jeremiah was no longer on Earth. Bryan confronted Rebecca about it. They fought, and it was a loud, almost violent argument. Yet it was the most emotion Rebecca showed other than a numb blank stare in a month. It ended with Bryan stopping himself from hitting Rebecca and storming off to a bar to drink until he forgot what he was angry about. This cycle went on for weeks, and then it ended with Rebecca getting into Bryan’s face and that ended with Bryan backhanding Rebecca across the face before storming out to drink. Rebecca stopped just going through the motions and the next morning Rebecca awoke before everyone and prepared breakfast in seemingly happy manner. Bryan’s boss stopped inquiring about Rebecca and Rebecca didn’t lose her job. Things were not the same as before, but Bryan and Rebecca’s arguments stopped for the time being. It didn’t take long be Bryan and Rebecca got drunk together and found themselves in a very familiar situation.

December 1986 was the first Christmas that wasn’t spent with yelling and anger from Bryan Sr. Instead, it was happy. Bryan spent time outside playing with Jeremy, Markus, Robert, and trying to include Bryan jr. as much as he could in their games. Bryan also took charge and helped Rebecca look after Emmett as she worked on the cooking as they also hosted Rebecca’s older brother, Forest Cole, and sister in-law, Janice Madeline Gordon. Yet Janice seemed to have nothing but criticisms to say about Bryan, Rebecca, the house, and how the boys acted. Bryan put on a front to try to stay positive for his wife, but when the 20th came around, and Janice went on one of her long tirades—Bryan snapped, which thankfully was cut short as Rebecca’s water broke and started to go into labor. Bryan pushed his anger to the side and gathered everyone taking Rebecca to the hospital and on the 20th of December, Forest Victor Gordon was born. Rebecca named him for his older brother and mother; giving him the same middle name she had, just in the masculine variant. Bryan staved his anger for one of his sons being named after her older brother. Yet it was a happy time for the family. Forest marked number eight in Bryan’s family and in a weird attitude change, he forgot about the money it would take to raise them. The only thing Bryan could have thought would make this Christmas scene better, would for it to of snowed the night they brought Forest home from the hospital. A white Christmas would have made it all the better.

Happiness never lasted long with Bryan as his boss started to get onto him about actually winning more games than losing them. Putting pressure on him and Rebecca. Thankfully almost all his boys were in school. It was most of his kids that were in the high school’s daycare. Bryan was starting to come home more agitated then ever and was snapping on his other boys and yelling at Rebecca. He was drinking more often and was secluding himself as much as he could from his family. Looking at the bills that had started to pile once again. The entire house was tense, and he felt the anger rise inside him. So, when Rebecca came to him with the news of a seventh child on the way, Bryan blew up at her. In his anger at the knowledge of their family of eight becoming a family of nine he grabbed a plate from the counter he was standing at and threw it at the wall next to Rebecca’s head. This irrational anger towards Rebecca didn’t quit or subside after that. It was a constant. Jeremy and Markus got the brunt of the anger while Rebecca was pregnant. They were ten years old and old enough to know you do shit right or not at all. Bryan also became a rather harsh Exy coach—he still treated those players better than his boys and wife.

July 21st,1988, early in the morning Jackson Cole Gordon was born. Bryan didn’t even look at him before he walked out of the room before telling Rebecca, “Name it whatever you want I couldn’t give a rats ass what this thing is called.” When Rebecca and Jackson came home Bryan didn’t pay any attention to Jackson. He stayed out all night drinking and would come home angry and just wanting to sleep. His patience with his was wearing thin every day. He couldn’t stand being in the house anymore and that “damn fucking baby” was getting on his last nerve. November 9th, 1989 came by and in one of the rare moments that Bryan was sober, yet a cigarette still in his mouth he placed divorce papers in front of Rebecca as she was still taking care of Jackson. Bryan was done. He didn’t give Rebecca any chance to discuss this. It was either they divorced and when about this peacefully for Bryan was going to leave that second and she wasn’t going to see a cent. Rebecca complied and on April 30th, 1990, Bryan and Rebecca finalized the divorce and Bryan left the next morning not giving any communication besides the court ordered child support check. He wasn’t part of his family’s life from that point on.

Rebecca Victoria (Roberts) Gordon Jeremy David Gordon Markus Ryan Gordon Robert Michael Gordon Bryan Seth Gordon Jr. Emmett Tyler Gordon Forest Victor Gordon Jackson Cole Gordon Matthew Brice Wilson Ophellia Eurydice Wilson-Gordon Dion Lysander Wilson-Gordon Orion Othello Wilson-Gordon

#all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc #bryan seth gordon sr.#bryan seth gordon #seth gordon #the six brothers of seth gordon #the gordon family history #all for the game fanfic #all for the game headcannons #mostly cannon compliant #cross posted on ao3

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 2 months

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Prince Rhaegar as a character often gets some deserved criticism - and a lot of underserved hate. And one of the things that I think he unfairly gets blamed for is Elia Martell's tragedy. Elia's death is one of the primary objections people have towards Rhaegar and Lyanna being depicted as a romance, with readers believing that if they were just tragic lovers, then that diminishes Elia's own tragedy.

I...disagree. It is understandable (and honestly right) that readers would rally behind Elia. Not only was she horribly brutalized and murdered, but her children suffered absolutely terrible fates as well.

However, in trying to center Rhaegar and Lyanna's doomed dalliance in this, a lot of readers are missing the answer that has been already provided to us within the narrative. Not only that, but this line of thinking also ignores the key context in which Elia's senseless murder is portrayed.

As far as the text goes, Elia’s death is laid squarely at the feet of Tywin Lannister and his men, Ser Gregor Clegane and Ser Amory Lorch. It's House Lannister's burden to bear.

Doran for one, Elia's brother, directly blames Tywin Lannister:

“You mistake patience for forbearance. I have worked at the downfall of Tywin Lannister since the day they told me of Elia and her children.”

The Princess in the Tower, AFFC

Even Oberyn agrees:

“Dwarf,” said the Red Viper, in a tone grown markedly less cordial, “spare me your Lannister lies. Is it sheep you take us for, or fools? My brother is not a bloodthirsty man, but neither has he been asleep for sixteen years. Jon Arryn came to Sunspear the year after Robert took the throne, and you can be sure that he was questioned closely. Him, and a hundred more. I did not come for some mummer’s show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane … but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that.” He smiled. “An old septon once claimed I was living proof of the goodness of the gods. Do you know why that is, Imp?”

Tyrion IV, ASOS

“Is that the game we are playing?” Tyrion rubbed at his scarred nose. He had nothing to lose by telling Oberyn the truth. “There was a bear at Harrenhal, and it did kill Ser Amory Lorch.” “How sad for him,” said the Red Viper. “And for you. Do all noseless men lie so badly, I wonder?” “I am not lying. Ser Amory dragged Princess Rhaenys out from under her father’s bed and stabbed her to death. He had some men-at-arms with him, but I do not know their names.” He leaned forward. “It was Ser Gregor Clegane who smashed Prince Aegon’s head against a wall and raped your sister Elia with his blood and brains still on his hands.” “What is this, now? Truth, from a Lannister?” Oberyn smiled coldly. “Your father gave the commands, yes?” “No.” He spoke the lie without hesitation, and never stopped to ask himself why he should. The Dornishman raised one thin black eyebrow. “Such a dutiful son. And such a very feeble lie. It was Lord Tywin who presented my sister’s children to King Robert all wrapped up in crimson Lannister cloaks.”

Tyrion IX, ASOS

“Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne,” the Red Viper hissed. “You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children…“I came to hear you confess.”

Tyrion X, ASOS

Varys and Tyrion both understand that House Martell (but more specifically Doran) hates the Lannisters.

“The Dornishmen thus far have held aloof from these wars. Doran Martell has called his banners, but no more. His hatred for House Lannister is well known, and it is commonly thought he will join Lord Renly. You wish to dissuade him.” “All this is obvious,” said Tyrion. “The only puzzle is what you might have offered for his allegiance. The prince is a sentimental man, and he still mourns his sister Elia and her sweet babe.” “My father once told me that a lord never lets sentiment get in the way of ambition … and it happens we have an empty seat on the small council, now that Lord Janos has taken the black.” “A council seat is not to be despised,” Varys admitted, “yet will it be enough to make a proud man forget his sister’s murder?” “Why forget?” Tyrion smiled. “I’ve promised to deliver his sister’s killers, alive or dead, as he prefers. After the war is done, to be sure.” Varys gave him a shrewd look. “My little birds tell me that Princess Elia cried a … certain name … when they came for her.” “Is a secret still a secret if everyone knows it?” In Casterly Rock, it was common knowledge that Gregor Clegane had killed Elia and her babe. They said he had raped the princess with her son’s blood and brains still on his hands. “This secret is your lord father’s sworn man.” “My father would be the first to tell you that fifty thousand Dornishmen are worth one rabid dog.” Varys stroked a powdered cheek. “And if Prince Doran demands the blood of the lord who gave the command as well as the knight who did the deed …” “Robert Baratheon led the rebellion. All commands came from him, in the end.” “Robert was not at King’s Landing.” “Neither was Doran Martell.”

Tyrion IV, ACOK

Really, all the nobles know where to look at when assigning blame for Elia's murder. Tywin.

“Prince Doran comes at my son’s invitation,” Lord Tywin said calmly, “not only to join in our celebration, but to claim his seat on this council, and the justice Robert denied him for the murder of his sister Elia and her children.” Tyrion watched the faces of the Lords Tyrell, Redwyne, and Rowan, wondering if any of the three would be bold enough to say, “But Lord Tywin, wasn’t it you who presented the bodies to Robert, all wrapped up in Lannister cloaks?” None of them did, but it was there on their faces all the same. Redwyne does not give a fig, he thought, but Rowan looks fit to gag.

Tywin, for the most part, quite shamelessly tries to disassociate himself from his own moral failings; this is nothing new, because he follows this same MO with squarely blaming the Freys for the Red Wedding even though he played an integral part in planning for it.

“Then why did the Mountain kill her?” “Because I did not tell him to spare her. I doubt I mentioned her at all. I had more pressing concerns. Ned Stark’s van was rushing south from the Trident, and I feared it might come to swords between us. And it was in Aerys to murder Jaime, with no more cause than spite. That was the thing I feared most. That, and what Jaime himself might do.” He closed a fist. “Nor did I yet grasp what I had in Gregor Clegane, only that he was huge and terrible in battle. The rape … even you will not accuse me of giving that command, I would hope. Ser Amory was almost as bestial with Rhaenys. I asked him afterward why it had required half a hundred thrusts to kill a girl of … two? Three? He said she’d kicked him and would not stop screaming. If Lorch had half the wits the gods gave a turnip, he would have calmed her with a few sweet words and used a soft silk pillow.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “The blood was in him.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

“And when Oberyn demands the justice he’s come for?” “I will tell him that Ser Amory Lorch killed Elia and her children,” Lord Tywin said calmly. “So will you, if he asks.” “Ser Amory Lorch is dead,” Tyrion said flatly. “Precisely. Vargo Hoat had Ser Amory torn apart by a bear after the fall of Harrenhal. That ought to be sufficiently grisly to appease even Oberyn Martell.” “You may call that justice …” “It is justice. It was Ser Amory who brought me the girl’s body, if you must know. He found her hiding under her father’s bed, as if she believed Rhaegar could still protect her. Princess Elia and the babe were in the nursery a floor below.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

Tywin tries to alleviate himself of any responsibility by blaming his men, but the narrative actively calls bullshit on this (through Tywin's own son no less).

So the narrative shows through multiple POVs that Elia's murder is contextualized exclusively as a failing on Tywin Lannister and his men; not only was it a moral failing, but Tyrion also questions if it was politically necessary in the first place. It's also important to note that ASOS is when we really dive into the matter of Elia and her children (mostly through Oberyn), but we also have to remember that this is the same book as the Red Wedding. The Red Wedding, another one of Tywin's senseless massacres that he tries to postulate as politically necessary.

So, we have agreed that the blame and context for Elia's (and her children's) murder is presented through the lens of Tywin as an immoral politician who often makes politically unnecessary moves. But then we ask ourselves, can the responsibility of this tragedy be extended? Well, yes it can. And it has been in the text.

Ser Barristan extends this tragedy beyond Tywin and his men

...to King Robert.

“Prince Rhaegar had two children,” Ser Barristan told him. “Rhaenys was a little girl, Aegon a babe in arms. When Tywin Lannister took King’s Landing, his men killed both of them. He served the bloody bodies up in crimson cloaks, a gift for the new king.” And what did Robert say when he saw them? Did he smile? Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin’s gift, but oft he wondered. If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar’s children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him. “I will not suffer the murder of children. Accept that, or I’ll have no part of this.”

The Kingbreaker, ADWD

Ned Stark does as well.

Ned did not feign surprise; Robert’s hatred of the Targaryens was a madness in him. He remembered the angry words they had exchanged when Tywin Lannister had presented Robert with the corpses of Rhaegar’s wife and children as a token of fealty. Ned had named that murder; Robert called it war. When he had protested that the young prince and princess were no more than babes, his new-made king had replied, “I see no babes. Only dragonspawn.” Not even Jon Arryn had been able to calm that storm. Eddard Stark had ridden out that very day in a cold rage, to fight the last battles of the war alone in the south. It had taken another death to reconcile them; Lyanna’s death, and the grief they had shared over her passing.

Eddard II, AGOT

And so does Tywin, who uses Robert's tacit approval as justification for this senseless act.

Lord Tywin stared at him as if he had lost his wits. “You deserve that motley, then. We had come late to Robert’s cause. It was necessary to demonstrate our loyalty. When I laid those bodies before the throne, no man could doubt that we had forsaken House Targaryen forever. And Robert’s relief was palpable. As stupid as he was, even he knew that Rhaegar’s children had to die if his throne was ever to be secure. Yet he saw himself as a hero, and heroes do not kill children.” His father shrugged. “I grant you, it was done too brutally. Elia need not have been harmed at all, that was sheer folly. By herself she was nothing.”

Tyrion VI, ASOS

So if we can't extend the blame to Rhaegar, because the narrative doesn't do so either, what can we hold him responsible for? Let's take a step back and look at Rhaegar's culpability in this whole thing.

Was Rhaegar (and Lyanna) responsible for starting the war that would eventually lead to Elia's murder?

No. GRRM doesn't think so. The war actually started when King Aerys murdered the Lord of Winterfell and his heir, a bunch of other northern nobles, and then called for the heads of Robert Baratheon (Lord of Storm's End) and Ned Stark (the new Lord of Winterfell). Aerys broke the feudal contract, and so Jon Arryn declared war.

I don't think I would have stayed loyal to the Mad King. Do I think they were justified? Yes, and no. [...] There was no doubt that the Mad King was mad. He was paranoid and he was abusing his power. And Westeros has no Magna Carta or anything like that. There was no way to handle this within the rule of law. But was what they do justified? Especially when you consider that it was triggered by a personal grievance. The execution of Ned's father and brother was really a thing that radicalized Ned and put him in opposition to it. Robert was just rolling for a fight and didn't like the fact that he'd lost his girlfriend. So you know, the personal informs the political.

source

Rhaegar and Lyanna's disappearance was merely the spark - it led to a misunderstanding that caused Brandon Stark to ride to Kingslanding. What really caused the war was Aerys' Targaryens subsequent actions as the king. So if we want to blame someone for causing the chain of events that led to Elia's death as well as her children's, the author himself says to blame Aerys; even though I don't think this is right either because we once again stray from the necessary (and sole) context of Elia's murder - Tywin's bloody hands.

Fine. Rhaegar was not responsible for the war. But surely he is responsible for leaving Elia in King's Landing, right in the clutches of Mad King Aerys. Well, this again, is not true. As far as Rhaegar knew, Elia was in Dragonstone with Aegon and Rhaenys where he left them.

As cold winds hammered the city, King Aerys II turned to his pyromancers, charging them to drive the winter off with their magics. Huge green fires burned along the walls of the Red Keep for a moon’s turn. Prince Rhaegar was not in the city to observe them, however. Nor could he be found in Dragonstone with Princess Elia and their young son, Aegon.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

At some point, Elia was called to King's Landing. And it was Aerys who kept her hostage there as insurance against possible Dornish betrayal (remember, he was paranoid).

Side Note: Aerys kept another important political hostage in King's Landing along with Elia - Jaime Lannister; this is to deter anyone from trying to blame Jaime for doing nothing. He was a teenager and a hostage himself!

“My Sworn Brothers were all away, you see, but Aerys liked to keep me close. I was my father’s son, so he did not trust me. He wanted me where Varys could watch me, day and night. So I heard it all.” He remembered how Rossart’s eyes would shine when he unrolled his maps to show where the substance must be placed. Garigus and Belis were the same. “Rhaegar met Robert on the Trident, and you know what happened there. When the word reached court, Aerys packed the queen off to Dragonstone with Prince Viserys. Princess Elia would have gone as well, but he forbade it. Somehow he had gotten it in his head that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, but he thought he could keep Dorne loyal so long as he kept Elia and Aegon by his side. The traitors want my city, I heard him tell Rossart, but I’ll give them naught but ashes. Let Robert be king over charred bones and cooked meat. The Targaryens never bury their dead, they burn them. Aerys meant to have the greatest funeral pyre of them all. Though if truth be told, I do not believe he truly expected to die. Like Aerion Brightfire before him, Aerys thought the fire would transform him … that he would rise again, reborn as a dragon, and turn all his enemies to ash.

Jaime V, ASOS

Ok, fine. So Rhaegar did not abandon her with Aerys then run off to Lyanna. But he should have done something when he came back, right? Why didn't he leave more Kings Guard with Elia and the children?

Well....this is a war. The knights of the KG are important assets on the battle field. Kings Landing, at the time, was not the most dangerous location. The KG were better off at the Trident, as a victory there would protect those who were left behind in KL.

And it's not that Rhaegar didn't do anything. Beyond going off to lead the battle himself, he tried to make moves that would help those who were back in KL (Elia and the children included).

He floated in heat, in memory. “After dancing griffins lost the Battle of the Bells, Aerys exiled him.” Why am I telling this absurd ugly child? “He had finally realized that Robert was no mere outlaw lord to be crushed at whim, but the greatest threat House Targaryen had faced since Daemon Blackfyre. The king reminded Lewyn Martell gracelessly that he held Elia and sent him to take command of the ten thousand Dornishmen coming up the kingsroad. Jon Darry and Barristan Selmy rode to Stoney Sept to rally what they could of griffins’ men, and Prince Rhaegar returned from the south and persuaded his father to swallow his pride and summon my father. But no raven returned from Casterly Rock, and that made the king even more afraid. He saw traitors everywhere, and Varys was always there to point out any he might have missed. So His Grace commanded his alchemists to place caches of wildfire all over King’s Landing. Beneath Baelor’s Sept and the hovels of Flea Bottom, under stables and storehouses, at all seven gates, even in the cellars of the Red Keep itself.

Jaime V ASOS

And Jaime's POV once again shows us that Rhaegar banked on victory at the Trident, and was fully expecting to come back to KL and amend the fraught political situation.

The day had been windy when he said farewell to Rhaegar, in the yard of the Red Keep. The prince had donned his night-black armor, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate. “Your Grace,” Jaime had pleaded, “let Darry stay to guard the king this once, or Ser Barristan. Their cloaks are as white as mine.” Prince Rhaegar shook his head. “My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. I dare not take that crutch away from him at such an hour.” Jaime’s anger had risen up in his throat. “I am not a crutch. I am a knight of the Kingsguard.” “Then guard the king,” Ser Jon Darry snapped at him. “When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey.” Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but … well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return.”

Jaime I, AFFC

So Rhaegar wasn't leaving with no care about what happened back in King's Landing. We don't know what he wanted to do with Aerys, Elia, Lyanna, and the aftermath of the war because he died at the Trident. But we do know that he, at the very least, was planning to do something.

So we can't blame Rhaegar (and Lyanna) for starting the war and we can't blame him either for abandoning Elia in King's Landing with no care about what happens next. So, again, what can we blame him for?

“It's not entirely correct that the Martells stayed out of the war. Rhaegar had Dornish troops with him on the Trident, under the command of Prince Lewyn of the Kingsguard. However, the Dornishmen did not support him as strongly as they might have, in part because of anger at his treatment of Elia, in part because of Prince Doran's innate caution.”

SSM, 09/11/1999

GRRM states that Dorne was angry about Rhaegar's treatment of Elia. What is this treatment, though?

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap.

Eddard XV, AGOT

Specifically, Rhaegar riding past Elia to crown Lyanna the Queen of Love and Beauty. Yes, that is a humiliation. And it's undeniable that no one was happy.

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia’s delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar’s cause…Yet if this were true, why did Lady Lyanna’s brothers seem so distraught at the honor the prince had bestowed upon her? Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, had to be restrained from confronting Rhaegar at what he took as a slight upon his sister’s honor…Eddard Stark, Brandon’s younger brother and a close friend to Lord Robert, was calmer but no more pleased.

“The Year of the False Spring”, The World of Ice and Fire

But, humiliating Elia is not the same thing as being responsible for her death. The narrative never equates these two things in any way. Elia's death is about Tywin's immoral and blood thirsty political actions. It's about Dorne's desire for justice (or is it vengeance?) which they know they will not get from the Lannister regime. House Lannister's downfall in King's Landing will be brought about by Prince Aegon's rise - Aegon who is proclaiming to be the long lost son of Prince Rhaegar, and who is being supported by House Martell as of now.

We can criticize Rhaegar for some things, but Elia's death is surely not one of them.

#I generally don't like talking about the whole rhaegar-lyanna-elia stuff partly because I don't really care for either of them #but mostly because these topics often devolve into extremes that help absolutely no one #but I just wanted to hop on here and say that blaming rhaegar for elia's death is imo not cannon compliant #the narrative already give us an answer to this - THE LANNISTERS but more specifically TYWIN and GREGOR and AMORY #it's not rhaegar or lyanna or their child Jon to bear any of the blame in this #dorne's decision to join the war against the crown is entirely because it's in opposition to the lannister regime #that's not to say that rhaegar cannot have responsibility for the humiliation of elia - because even grrm says he does #but saying he bears the blame for her murder is just a bit.....😕#also rhaegar is one thing but blaming LYANNA of all people is ummm well #rhaegar targaryen #robert's rebellion #tywin lannister #ser gregor clegane #ser amory lorch #house martell #elia martell #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #pls forgive any spelling and grammatical mistakes its midnights and I'm tired af thanks #my stuff

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resident-gay-bitch · 1 year

Text

“oh, look, you were still a filthy little shit as a child too, my love.” remus said with a doting smile, holding up a picture frame with an image of sirius and regulus as small children. in it, regulus looked like the perfect angel child, and sirius was picking his nose.

“you are so good to me, moony.” sirius glanced at him, “such a kind soul.”

“i do try.” remus grinned and set the picture down.

they were cleaning out the bedrooms in the old black estate so there would be beds for the weasleys, and harry, and the granger girl, and whoever else needed shelter here. it was the first time since azkaban that sirius had been able to step foot in regulus’s room. its the first time he’s stepped foot in it since he left for the potters whilst still in school.

that seemed like a lifetime and a half ago now.

“how are you feeling with all this, padfoot?” remus asked, tossing more junk into the box he had under his arm.

“alright, considering…” he shrugged, because he really was doing the best he could. it was hard, being in here, still grieving the loss of his brother. never getting the closure he needed. he still grieved for everyone, even remus, “the abnormally romantically desperate poetry is keeping me sane- you know, if regulus was here right now, he’d actually cut off my hand and gouge out my eyes for reading his journals.”

remus laughed.

sirius held up one of the journals, an old one, “i remember when we were boys, regulus had just started to write and he’d left his page open on his desk and i… i started to read, and he stabbed my hand with his pen.”

remus just looked at him.

“you can laugh, you know? it’s funny.”

remus tried his best not to laugh.

“he was an aggressive little creiten.” sirius said with a smile, “you know, i’m wishing more than anything that he just… pop up out of thin air and stab me with his pen again for reading all these.”

remus let a little laugh out at that.

“i shouldn’t snoop, i know i shouldn’t, but…” he sighed and slapped the book down into the box he had beside him, “it’s all i have left of him, and so, i think it might be the closure i need.”

“i’m sure he’ll understand, sirius.” remus offered and then pondered the thought for a moment, “he might still have a violent outburst about it, but he’d understand.”

sirius laughed and nodded his head, “you’re right, moony. why must you always be right?”

remus tapped his noggin, “old and wise.”

“old, perhaps.” siris muttered under his breath, and remus threw an old little velvet box at him in retaliation.

sirius laughed before opening it, inspecting the insides. there lay a ring, one with regulus’s initials. sirius had a matching one, all the blacks did. a signet ring gifted to them before departing on the hogwarts express. an expectation to make the family name proud and grow into a fine young man with poise and prejudice.

fuck that.

sirius wore his ring for a total of seven hours before he’d removed it after getting sorted into gryffindor and got that horrid letter from his mother. he’d thrown it into the black lake the day he found out regulus had become like them, when his skin had been marked and his fate was sealed.

if only he knew, back then, that regulus wasn’t like them after all. that he just wanted to be seen, the same as sirius did.

sirius slid the ring onto his finger and hoped that wearing it would be enough.

he sighed and reached under the bed for another box. this one was smaller, a chest of sorts. he opened it to find a collection of letters.

sirius opened the one on top, it had the most wear and tear, and he smiled when he read the first line.

“oh, remus… have a look at this.” sirius laughed, holding up the letter, “regulus has love letters.”

“absolutely he did not.” remus shook his head.

“a whole box of them.” sirius nodded and held the paper back out to read again, “look, it says, dear regulus, my love.”

“who’s it from?” remus asked, leaning up against the counter.

“i’m not sure,” he shrugged, “it’s signed from his sun.”

remus squinted, “we’ll go on, read it out.”

“sorry, brother.” sirius said and cleared his throat, “dear regulus, my love, i hope this letter finds you well. i can’t bear to be without you. this summer break has been most painful, i miss you dearly. as you told me before we parted ways, you will look to the sun to find me, but i’ve noticed the sun has hidden away these past few days, so i am writing to you so you may find me like this instead. i still look to the sky every night and blow a kiss to your star. i think of you as i lay awake at night. i dream of you when sleep finally takes me, but it always comes easier with you in my arms- oh, remus. whoever this sun is, they’re a bloody sap.”

remus laughed, “yes, almost as sappy as you, sirius.” he smiled, “reminds me of james, a bit… he was such a romantic with lily.”

“don’t remind me.” sirius glared at him, “i had to hear every musing of that love fest.”

“i think i’ve heard enough, have you?” remus sighed, “you don’t want to invade their privacy any longer.”

“oh, but he was in love, moony.” sirius sighed, “there is no name! and i’ll only read this one.”

“i really don’t think you should-“

“sometimes, when i miss you so much it hurts my heart, i hold my hands up to block out your brothers face and pretend his smile is yours. it’s not quite the same, but it’s close enough. i find you everywhere, reg- wait, oh, they- they blocked out my smile?” sirius glanced up.

remus swallowed, “you should really put that down, sirius.”

“you know something.” sirius glared at him.

“i don’t.” remus pressed, averting his eyes.

“you do. you are a terrible liar!” he gasped, “you can’t lie to me, moony- what do you know?”

“it’s none of your business, sirius.” remus huffed, “your brothers' relationships are no matter to you.”

“but he was in love!” sirius pressed, “my little brother was in love, remus! he was in love with one of my- oh my goodness, is it you? did you write these-“

“oh, sirius, shut up.” remus sighed and glared at him, “your brother was a very handsome boy back in school, but i prefer long haired shit heads.”

sirius smiled with a little pout, “you are such a romantic, moony… and speaking of romantics-“

“sirius.” remus pressed.

“it’s torture not telling sirius about this, i tell him everything, but for you i’ll keep this safe. for you i would do anything, my love. i hope you don’t mind, but i may have told remus- you do know!” sirius gasped, “what do you know!”

“i made a vow to never tell you, sirius.” remus shook his head out, “i made a vow to the both of them, and even though he’s dead, i do not intend on breaking a vow with regulus black.”

sirius hummed, “you’re probably right to do that. he’s slimy. he’ll find a way to harm you for it.”

remus nodded.

sirius sighed and looked back at the letter, “i’m going to keep reading.”

“okay.” remus groaned, “but you can’t get mad.”

“why would i get mad?”

“you just would.” remus said.

“oh, it was lily.” sirius nodded, and the way that remus scrunched up his face told sirius that it certainly wasn’t lily, “peter? that… bastard-“

“not peter.” remus shook his head and got back to cleaning.

sirius sighed and read the letter again, “i just couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. he vowed to never tell a soul, and promised to make the same vow to you if you’d like. i have to tell someone about you, my love, about your letters. about your poetry. about your love. you are my everything, and i hold you so dear in my heart. i love you, regulus, more than all the stars in the galaxy. enjoy your solace, bask in it, i have to go listen to sirius talk about david bowie for another three hours, and then we’re going shopping with mum, so- wait!” sirius froze and read the last part out again, he could see remus tense up out of the corner of his eye, “shopping with mum, so pray for me. i’m kidding, i do love your brother very much. i hope we can tell him about this soon, i hope he will be happy for us. love, your sun. oh remus…”

“yes?” remus asked.

“it’s james… isn’t it?” he swallowed, “james was the one in love with my brother?”

“i can neither confirm nor deny.”

sirius dove back into the box of letters and kept searching until he found one with an address written on it, as well as a bedroom- james room. it was james. james had been writing his brother. james was in love with his brother. james was- “what the fuck?!” sirius shouted, waving the letters out and looking up to the sky, “you filthy, lying, brother-fucker! james- oh! i’ll- when i get up there, you’re dead! how could you lie for… for so long- oh, james… you- i’m so sorry.”

remus swallowed, “he wanted to tell you… after regulus died. he- he couldn’t bring himself to after he was marked, james felt completely betrayed. but… when he died, it hurt you so deeply, he didn’t want to risk angering you or hurting you more. and then after that, he just… he never found the time.”

sirius’s heart clenched for his best friend. he loved him. he loved his brother, and he braved the pain of losing him alone. he let sirius cry to him day in and day out about the pain and loss of regulus, and he was feeling the same. he was feeling it too. but he put on a brave face just so sirius wouldn’t hurt so much. so sirius had a stoic shoulder to cry on.

oh james.

you beautiful mess.

sirius prayed he had peace there, in the afterlife, wherever it may be. he hoped he had lily close by, and regulus too. he hoped james was happy again, and he’d be there soon. and the very first thing sirius plans to do when he meets his fate, is hold james just as tightly as james had held him all those years ago, and then he’d hold his brother the same.

sirius sighed and looked down at the letter in his hand, “we’re they… they were happy?”

“very.” remus nodded, “from what i know, james loved him very much.”

“oh, james.” sirius sniffled, holding back some tears, “my brother, why didn’t you tell me? you were- you were hurting just the same as i was- you- you let yourself go through all of that alone?”

“he wasn’t alone, sirius.”

sirius looked up at remus with a weak smile and nodded, “thank you, remus… for looking after us both.”

remus walked over and crouched down in front of sirius, swept some of his hair back behind his ear, “is that not what love is for? caring for one another?”

“it is.” sirius clutched the letter to his chest and let out a tear, “i’m glad regulus had love, remus… before he died- both of them. they both deserve so much love.”

“and they have it.” remus whispered and kissed sirius between his brows, “as do you. i love you. they love you, even in death.”

“i miss them.” sirius sobbed, “oh, i miss them so much.”

“me too, my love.” remus let himself cry too, “me too.”

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writing-in-the-impala · 8 months

Text

Secret Smokes (Series Masterlist)

Pairing: Professor! Remus Lupin x Student! Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, Age gap, teacher-student relationship, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut (eventually), non-cannon compliant (I mean it's mostly canon except Sirius isn't in Azkaban and Voldemort never came back after killing James and Lilly.

Word Count: 1.5k - 5 k per chapter

Total word count: 35k

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

PART 5

PART 6

PART 7

PART 8

PART 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Mood Board by: @starchaser-lily ❤️‍🔥

Check out my other stuff here: MASTERLIST

#student x teacher #harry potter #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #professor lupin x reader #remus love you #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #teacher! remus lupin #secret smokes

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dancingtotuyo · 2 months

Text

9. the fear of what's to come

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You and Joel navigate life changing news.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, mentions of potential pregnancy complications including but not limited to miscarriage and stillbirth, single reference to a fetus being a child (not intended in a pro life way), angst, grief, complicated feelings surrounding pregnancy.

Notes: A huge thanks to my amazing beta readers and friends @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin & @janaispunk

If you have not checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3088

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

You know three weeks after your missed period what is happening. It’s not hard to figure out. It’s just like last time. Menopause crosses your mind briefly, but the symptoms don’t line up. You’re sensitive to the same foods, nausea rolls in and out like the ocean tides throughout the day. The insatiable craving for a tomato sandwich cements it two days later. Tears run down your cheeks as you quickly finish off the sandwich and prepare another.

You don’t get excited. You don’t make plans, and most importantly, you don’t tell Joel. You’re 45. Joel is in his late 50s. You know the statistics, the pre-end-of-the-world ones. You can’t imagine they’ve improved.

Instead, you just hope that when it happens, nothing goes wrong. There’s no DNC, no pills to make sure everything passes properly or ensure no infection sets in. You’ve aided many women through this, many much younger than yourself. Some make it just fine, others have complications with nothing but prayer, poultices, and 20-year-old antibiotics to help. You’re not sure what actually does it when the women make it through. Some of them you've buried. Their faces flicker through your mind. You cannot be one of them. You cannot leave Carter without either of his parents in this world.

You tell Maria. You tell her everything she needs to know. What to do step by step when it happens. Since Adam’s injury, Dr. Pooley refuses to practice anything more than simple first aid. You’re both certain it’s dementia. You spend most mornings listening to him talk through different lectures he attended. On the mornings his brain won’t cooperate, you sip tea together. He’s writing down what he remembers, but you have to fact-check it. He’s already taught you most of it anyway.

“You have to tell Joel,” Maria says when you tell her.

You refuse. You won’t do it. You won’t bring him into this. You have this silent agreement that you’re partners in this world, but he still lives in the house across the street with Ellie. There’s never been discussions about moving in together or anything past that. You don’t call him your boyfriend. He doesn’t call you his girlfriend. Making those commitments, those plans, it will hurt too much when the world takes him away.

Carter calls him “Daddy.” It makes Joel smile every time. He’s accepted that commitment. It makes you smile too, but there’s still a little ache in your heart each time. Carter knows about Gabe. You tell him stories all the time. If you ask him, he says he has two daddies. One here and one in heaven.

But you won’t tell Joel about this child. He’s lost one. He doesn’t need to lose another.

Maria fights you on it. She looks at her son pointing out that she was 2 years older than you are now when he was born healthy. You don’t remind her she almost died, but she sees it in your eyes. You still have nightmares about that night.

You’re firm. You’re not going to tell Joel. Neither will she, and she damn sure won’t tell Tommy either.

You wait for the cramps and the blood, but they never come. You hit the 3-month mark, your 2nd trimester at the beginning of October. You don’t cry in the bathroom. You square your shoulders. Second-trimester miscarriages happen. Stillbirths happen, but hope gathers in the depths of your soul, growing with each day. You push it away with logic and reasoning.

Two sides of you war against each other. You can’t bring another life into this world. At one point you were okay with it. You felt safe here, and while you still do, it doesn’t feel okay anymore. The world still digs its ugly claws into this community. Yet, the hopes you used to hold in your mind, the ones you had with Gabe, and the ones you had before the outbreak still linger. In a perfect, uncomplicated world, this is what you would choose.

You hide the sickness from Joel with relative ease. He’s often awake and out of bed before you for patrol shifts, early morning chores, or waking up with Carter so you can sleep in.

You deliver the Crosby twins a week later without complications. Melissa is only a couple of years younger than you, but at your age, you know how crucial those few years are. When you finally reach your front porch, you sit in the darkness of Wyoming and finally let the tears fall because fate seems to be telling you that this is happening, or just sending you another person to lose. The realization hits you like a freight train. Time is up. You have to tell Joel.

You crack open the door to Carter’s bedroom. He’s sound asleep and it relieves you to know he's here. You’re less on edge when he’s close, and It means Joel picked him up from Maria and Tommy’s. It means Joel is in your bed.

Sure enough, he’s there when you creep in. He sleeps on his side curled up over your pillow. You roll your eyes. Yes, it's endearing, but it’s also a pain in the ass to get your pillow back.

The bathroom light is blinding at first, but your eyes slowly adjust as you turn on the shower and steam fills the space. Goosebumps spread across your skin as you undress, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You’ve noticed the subtle changes in your body over these past couple of months, but they’re becoming more noticeable. Your breasts have grown, they’re so sensitive, and your sports bra pulls at the seams. Joel commented on it last week. You joked you were packing on extra weight for winter acting like it was nothing.

Your favorite pair of jeans no longer fit. You’ve mostly stuck to leggings since. You’re starting to clock the subtle changes in your body. They’re happening faster than with your last pregnancy. The past week, you’ve shut Joel down sexually, scared he would catch on despite your sex drive skyrocketing. It’s been difficult.

The shower washes away everything: the sweat and grime of the day, your tears, the tension in your muscles. You stand under the water until it runs cold, slipping on Joel’s worn soft t-shirt.

Your pillow is back on your side of the bed, Joel still on his side. A smile creeps onto your face. He keeps his eyes closed, but you know he’s awake. You don’t say anything as you slide into bed, but your anxiety spikes, your heart fluttering in your chest. You have to tell him.

You’re staring at the ceiling when he breaks the silence. “What happened?”

You suck in a breath. He thinks something went wrong tonight. He’s probably preparing to dig a grave. “Nothing, mom and babies are fine.”

“So it was twins?”

“Yeah.” You had suspected as much, but the ultrasound machine doesn’t work, try as you might to get it operational. You hadn’t been able to find a second heartbeat with the Doppler.

“So what’s buggin you?” His drawl is deeper, soaked with sleep.

He scoots a little closer, hot breath tickling your ear. You can’t move. You should look him in the eye when you tell him, but you can’t. The words are at the back of your throat surging forward toward your lips. The anxiety in your chest feels like a herd of buffalo stomping across the countryside. You squeeze your eyes shut to try and stop it.

“Sweetheart?” His hand reaches toward you, eyes trained on your profile as concern laces his brow.

“I’m pregnant.”

His hand stops over your arm. You feel its warmth so close, and then it goes away. You dare to look at him. You expect him to get out of bed and bolt. You don’t know why. He’s only shown you otherwise the entirety of your relationship, but this is more than either of you signed up for. Instead, you watch as it sinks in. He connects the dots, all the symptoms and signs that were right in front of his face, his subconscious absorbing them, but refusing to put it all together.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

You look back toward the ceiling, tears slipping from your eyes.

His hand covers your abdomen, forehead pressing against your temple. He starts to feel the changes to your body for what they are. You shudder.

“How long have you known?”

There’s not a trace of judgment or fear in his voice, but it does little to assure you. You’re scared. It doesn’t matter what Joel says or does, the fear is overwhelming.

“Beginning of August.”

“Shit, baby.” He pulls you into him, cradling your head against his chest. “You didn’t have to carry this alone.”

“I didn’t think it would last.” After months of holding the tears back, you finally let them out, a mix of relief and fear. “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to-”

You can’t finish it. You can’t say it out loud, but Joel knows what you’re trying to say. You didn’t want him to lose another child, and it wrecks him. His grip on you is crushing, but it soothes your shaking frame. Just as you come down, his sobs greet your ear because he’s scared too. Every single fear and anxiety that has come over you the past months, he feels too. Maria’s labor and delivery flash through his mind. If that happens to you, who’s going to save you?

You reach up to cradle his face. He presses into your neck. Your skin is sticky and salty again, but you don’t even think about it as the man you love and can’t tell cries in your arms. You’re unable to return his soothing squeeze, but you lay there to provide any comfort you can. The two of you fall asleep tangled in each other.

You feel Joel’s fingers dancing across your abdomen before you’re fully conscious. There’s no rhyme or reason to his movements. His other hand brushes over your temple and through your hair. Every once in a while you feel his breath and lips across your neck, up and down your arm, over your collarbone. It feels like he’s memorizing you, fear present in all of his movements even now.

You finally open your eyes. His movements still as you look at him. There are tears in his eyes as his head falls forward, resting against yours. “I’m scared.”

“Me too.” You reach out, nails raking across his arm.

He shudders under your touch. “I wish you told me sooner.”

You bit your lips. “I’m sorry.”

He lets out a deep sigh, kissing your forehead. His hand drifts to your abdomen again. You watch his eyes, so expressive filled with fear and anxiety and maybe a little bit of awe and guilt?

“I should’ve been more careful.”

You press your head to his, inhaling softly. “We.”

Joel’s fingers scrape along your jaw, his beard rough against your chin. “I like being a we.”

“Me too.”

Silence settles between the two of you. The wind knocks against the window, but it’s warm next to Joel. His arm snakes around you, tugging you closer to him.

“I suppose you’ve told Maria?”

You can’t hide the guilty smile on your lips. “If it makes a difference, she told me I needed to tell you right away. Pretty sure she was gonna tell you herself if I didn’t do it soon.” You mess with the collar of his shirt.

“How long do we have?”

“Figure it’ll be May. If we get that far.” You say. Joel nods and something clenches around your heart, a need to protect him, warn him of the danger. “You know there’s a lot of risks. No guarantee…”

“One day at a time.” He kisses your cheek but you see all the fear he’s pushing away plastered to his face like a movie poster.

Joel asks you how you are, but other than that, you don’t talk about it. You feel like a weight has lifted off your shoulders but there’s an anvil hanging above your head, waiting to drop at a moment’s notice.

You’ve outgrown your last pair of jeans. When you manage to trade with someone, they give you a look, like they know what’s going on inside your body.

You take more naps, sometimes at the clinic, sometimes on the couch. You’re constantly tired. Maria brings dinner to the house every few days. She never asked, but you don’t complain.

One evening you open your eyes to find Ellie staring down at you, worry etched in her features. It startles you at first.

“You’ve been sleeping a lot lately,” She says.

“You’ve noticed?” You pull yourself into a seated position. It feels like someone shoved a bunch of cotton into your mouth. You reach for the now room-temperature water on your end table.

“You only take naps when you’re sick or depressed.” You raise an eyebrow at her. She crosses her arms as if to say she knows you’re neither right now. “What’s going on?”

You finish off the water. Despite its temperature, it helps. “I’m fine.” You reach out, placing a hand on her shoulder, but it does nothing. At 17 years old, Ellie is turning into a woman before your very eyes. At times, you’re convinced any semblance of childhood has been replaced with adulthood, but there are other times you still see the slivers of the girl you met two and a half years ago. Right now, she’s the one sitting in front of you.

“Bullshit. What’s going on? You and Joel have been acting weird.”

Had things really been that different in the past couple of weeks? You open your mouth to speak, unsure of what to say. You and Joel hadn’t talked about telling anyone, which seemed silly. You can’t hide this forever.

The door opens and Carter bursts in with Joel on his heels. A smile instantly finds your lips.

“Mommy! Look!” He holds up a package of seemingly new Crayola crayons.

Your eyes widen with exaggeration. “Wow, buddy. That’s awesome.”

“John Lacy found a bunch of them on patrol. They handed them out today,” Joel smiles. “Grabbed you some colored pencils.” He hands a set of non-crayola pencils to Ellie.

“Thanks.” She smiles but is still distracted by her worry over you.

Carter crawls up beside you, eagerly pulling out the surprisingly intact crayons one by one. Joel leans over to kiss your cheek and tousles Ellie’s hair. She makes a face of displeasure but doesn’t fight him on it.

“You two look like you were talkin about somethin serious.”

“I was trying to figure out why the two of you have been acting weird,” Ellie says.

Joel’s drops to unreadable. He looks at you and you shrug in response. “We have to tell them eventually.”

Worry makes its home on Ellie’s face. “So something is wrong with you.with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” You sigh deeply. You run your fingers over Carter’s head, kissing it.

“You’re sure acting like there is,” She says impatiently.

“Ellie,” Joel reprimands, traces of his asshole voice laced into it.

Ellie bites her lip. It looks like she might be fighting off tears as she looks directly at you. “I’m worried about you.”

You force a smile, leaning forward. Your forearms rest on your knees. One would think it would get easier to say each time. Instead, it’s like picking at a scab that’s not healed. You’re forcing yourself to say something, your brain isn’t ready to accept. “I’m pregnant.”

Ellie sits up straighter, her eyes widen with shock. “Oh wow…”

You wonder if the pictures fill her mind too. She saw Maria the night Elias was born. She saw the blood that covered you. Joel’s fingers brush over your shoulder, squeezing it lightly before they run over the back of your neck. You lean against him. “I’m sorry we worried you. We’re still getting used to the idea,” You say.

She nods and then her arms around your neck. She basically knocks you backward with the force of it. “I’m glad you’re not dying.”

You squeeze her tightly, a faint lilt of humor in your voice. “Me too.”

Then her voice drops to a whisper right at your ear. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Your head rests on Joel’s bare chest that night. The full moon sends light drifting through your window, casting the room in a cool glow. You play absentmindedly with the hair on his chest. His heart beats under your ear. The room is otherwise silent.

“I told Tommy today.”

You nod.

“He wanted to know why I was so quiet. Told him I was always quiet.”

That pulls a smile across your lips. “Surprised he shut up long enough to notice.”

Joel chuckles. His arm around you tightens. His lips find your forehead. “I know we’re not ready to think too much about it.”

“Don’t think it’s something we can really ignore.” You nuzzle further into him.

“Baby steps.” He kisses your nose this time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Baby steps? Really?” You flip onto your stomach while you still can.

He chuckles. “Poor word choice.”

You kiss his bicep and then his shoulder. He looks at you like your entire world and your stomach erupts in butterflies and twists in knots all at the same time. You still won’t let him say it, but you feel it every time he looks at you like that.

You rest your chin on his shoulder. “What are these steps you had in mind?”

His thumb traces over your jaw and cheek. “Don’t bolt on me, okay?”

“I think it’s a little late for that.”

He chuckles and then inhales deeply. “I think we should probably share a house. I figured you’d prefer to stay here, but it’s up to you.” He searches your eyes for any signs of panic or signs that you might shut down but finds nothing. In fact, you’re so calm that it’s hard to read.

“It would be nice to have you officially living here,” you say. It feels right to say, to think about. “And Ellie if she wants.”

“That was easier than I’d thought it would be.”

“You pretty much live here as is.” You turn on your side, nuzzling back into him. “I’ll miss your fireplace though.”

Joel smiles. “Guess I'll just have to keep you warm instead.”

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #hbo tlou #woman (joel miller)#woman (joel’s version)#woman #pedro stories #pedrostories #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu #pedro pascal characters

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voices-of-favor · 9 days

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Its been said, and I'm gonna talk about it again because I feel like it

Voices of Favor, a mostly Codex-compliant chapter, don't have scouts

Instead, their aspirants receive old, renovated suits of armor in colors of different noble houses of Malto, which in turn become sponsors to the young aspirants, now known as the Malto Nobles

Their separate company fights alongside augmented and regular mortal warriors, and it is expected that an aspirant serves several decades and fights in numerous battles before they earn the right to wear the chapters insignia and, eventually, a Mark X. armor (when they become fully Primarisized and Primaris sized)

There are, of course, exceptions

Aspirants, who train to become chapter apothecaries, techmarines, tank drivers or devastators, are issued custom sets of armor in chapter/unit colors and are placed in units with their senior battle brothers, so that they can quickly learn all they need to know about their future specialist position

That is why, if you see a younger, smaller space marine riding on top of a tank, or lugging around a large las-cannon, or running after a Primaris Apothecary/Techpriest, know that they are chapter newbies doing their best

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #space marines #astartes #space marine #miniature #miniature painting #voices of favor #VoF #custom space marine chapter #homebrew chapter #lore

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darkspellmaster · 1 month

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Master Post for A Phantomhive in Night Raven College or one Hell of a Twisted Tale

So If you're looking for the story, Here is the master post with all the Chapters broken up in to groups. I hope this helps, and also if you want to skip over say the Long Halloween, you can.

Main Arcs are linked, All Vignettes are in-between Chapters.

Summary:

Ciel Phantomhive, the Queen's Watchdog, has seen some serious situations in his short life, and always had control over them, but he never once believed he would find himself in a world where all his skills and charms would be useless to him. Now, tossed through a gateway to a Twisted world where magic abounds, can the young Earl Phantomhive manage to survive going to Night Raven College, and unravel the mystery of why he was set there, and how to get back home.

A, mostly, Cannon Compliant, crossover of Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji and Twisted Wonderland.

Chapters (Only Beginning and Endings)

Welcome to the Villain's World Ciel

Chapter 1 / Chapter 6

The Rose Red Tyrant

Chapter 8 / Chapter 24

The Usurper of the Wilds

Chapter 25 / Chapter 46

The Phantom Bride

Chapter 47 / Chapter 57

Halloween is Coming

Chapter 58 / Chapter 61

Halloween: Terror is Trending

Chapter 65 / Chapter 130

Halloween: Spectral Soirée

Chapter 131 / Chapter 156

Merchant of the Depths

Chapter 157 / ?????

Chapter 165:Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, A Deal with a Devil

Chapter 166: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Splashing Encounter

Chapter 167: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Scheming

Chapter 168: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Water-logged Misfortune

Chapter 169: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Shocking

Chapter 170: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Marred

Chapter 171: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Advantageous

Chapter 172: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Brainstorming

Chapter 173: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Dastardly Heist.

Chapter 174: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Gone Fishing

Chapter 175: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Jousting with a Kraken

Chapter 176: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Lonely Pot

Latest Chapter

Chapter 177: Merchant of the Depths–That Butler, Packing and Unpacking

Have questions, just shoot me an ask. Happy to answer it.

Discord for those interested in it.

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aziraphales-library · 5 months

Note

Hi there!! Thank you so much for running this wonderful blog! As someone who has only recently started to get into fanfiction your recommendations have been very helpful.

I was wondering: I’ve read quite a few historical fics, and while all of those were wonderful, I was wondering if there were any fics set in a futuristic (like post 21st century or something) setting that you would recommend? It can be cannon compliant or not it doesn’t really matter to me, but I would prefer something not E-rated. :)

Thanks again for this great blog!!

Hello! Here are some future fics for you...

The Four Hundredth Anniversary Is Stars by AstroGirl (G)

They make it to Alpha Centauri eventually, via the tourist route.

Celestial Passengers by syrupfactory (T)

Passengers adaptation for the Good Omens RomCom Event In the distant future on the planet Homestead II, Aziraphale and Crowley recall the journey that brought the first settlers there. The starship Avalon transported five thousand hibernating passengers from Earth to this new world, and their safe arrival was declared miraculous … which sparked a curious rumor that angels must have accompanied and protected them. Aziraphale is happy to keep that legend alive as long as there are people who want to believe. His husband is mostly just amused.

Revelation by syrupfactory (M)

The year is 3021, and Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a thousand years. Together, they manage the London Archive, a futuristic information hub that stands on the same block that one held a bookstore. An Anglican priest who visits regularly has a huge crush on Aziraphale, and Crowley is amused … until the priest grows bitter enough to make a very poor choice. As it turns out, envy is a bad look for a man of the cloth, and pissing off an angel is far worse.

This One Is Special by AppleSeeds (M)

Heaven and Hell are joining forces against humanity as written in the Divine Plan. Aziraphale is desperate to stop them, convinced that if he can just find evidence to show Gabriel that there is still hope for humanity, he might be able to persuade him to stand down. All he needs is one human, someone who has learnt to be better and wants to save the world... Might that person be Crowley, a man who has just quit his job and joined a spiritual retreat while he tries to work out what to do with his life in the face of unethical corporate practices, yet another pandemic and impending ecological collapse? Crowley is surprised by the interest Aziraphale is taking in him, listening to him like no one ever has before. Aziraphale also happens to be completely lovely and gorgeous enough to make Crowley reverse his decision not to think about men on this retreat. It's still a bit of a shock when Crowley wakes up surrounded by candles with Aziraphale actually in his bedroom though...

Binary Star by TriffidsandCuckoos (T)

After abandoning the Earth in the wake of a more environmental apocalypse, humanity has taken to the stars. Crowley stayed behind to restore the Earth; Aziraphale followed the humans into space. After almost two centuries, the latest prophet arrives in Aziraphale’s archive, determined to rectify this.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #future fic #space #science fiction #mod d

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gingerdunbroch · 5 months

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a list of vague descriptions of doctor x rose fics i’ve read and can’t remember the names of

one where Rose gives Tentoo the cold shoulder post Journey’s End to try and spare him but he gets curious, and finds out Rose and the rest of Torchwood are being forced to work for the daleks—the story’s climax involves daleks asking either Rose or Tentoo to pick a planet to destroy, they put in “coordinates” that initiate a self-destruct sequence, but i’m pretty sure they both survive, if rather injured

one where Rose predicts her own future via drawings; pretty sure it was canon compliant thru Journey’s End and i think it was on teaspoon (whofic)

a WIP that was like 6 chapters long on fanfiction.net where Rose had just taken over her father’s company after he died and she’s so stressed that Donna (her secretary? i think?) recommends she go to this wellness center to see AU!Ten (i think his name is Smith?). oh and Martha works at the center too. but yeah John is like an energy healer or smthn like that?

i think this one was called like Rose on the Vine or smthn and it was on ao3 and had a sequel, but it was an all human AU where Rose was a stripper and keeping it a secret from her friends

a Ten/Rose reunion fic where Rose mentions having run into Eight in Paris while Dimension Hopping and spending the night with him

a Nine/Rose fic where nine has to go to a planet that isn’t human-safe so he makes rose a sonic pen-type thing that can um, simulate different…parts for…fun times

a Ten/Rose reunion!fic where Ten makes it back to Pete’s World, and disguises himself to suss out if Rose is happy/would want to come back. i think it was on teaspoon

a Tentoo/Rose fic where Tentoo has nightmares and Rose gives him this special stone that helps, and eventually he finds out that he’s the one who gave it to Rose in the first place (i think the implication was she was going to kill herself pre-dimension cannon), meaning he has to complete a circular paradox. i remember Tentoo wouldn’t let past Rose touch him bc then she’d know he was human. i think it was on teaspoon. it’s possible this could have been 2 separately posted connected fics and i’m just smushing them into one

a fic where the Doctor and Rose have a daughter before he regenerates into Ten and then he has to get his daughter used to his new face, I think it mostly took place as a telepathic conversation between them? also i think it was on teaspoon

a fic where Ten keeps licking Rose and can taste her emotions, no idea where i read it tho

a fic (2 parts, on i think both teaspoon and ao3) where right after Bad Wolf Bay pt 2 Rose and Tentoo get teleported to an elf-like world where “queen” Rose has to settle a debate about ginger between three farmers and Tentoo is given a red velvet suit and then gets drunk from consuming too much ginger

a 2 chapter fic (on tsp?) where Ten and Rose observe their future selves getting it on in like a meadow on an alien planet and then Ten gets squirrely about fulfilling the circular paradox, saying “time is in flux”. there’s a scene where they’re talking to each other on either side of Rose’s bathroom door. chapter 2 is them going back to complete the paradox

i’ll add more to this post as i randomly remember more fics i neglected to bookmark anywhere

fingers crossed someone sees this post and remembers the name of at least one of these fics!

#life with ginger #doctor who #tentoo #tenth doctor #rose tyler #doctor who fic #doctor who fic lost and found #fic finder #doctor who fic finder

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renee-writer · 1 year

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June Prompts Chapter 26 Professor

AO3

“He is a professor. Daddy, err, Frank, would have liked him.” Her hands are on her hips as she stares at her mama.

Claire rolls her eyes. “And you think I wouldn’t just because of his career?”

“I know you didn’t like da… Frank’s profession.”

“Bree, you can call him daddy. He was that to you. It wasn’t his profession I didn’t like, it was his after class activities.”

Bree gives her a sad smile. “Right. Sorry. He should have never…”

“Thank you but that is in the past. Tell me about your professor.”

“His name is Roger…”

#my writing #outlander fanfic #june prompts #chapter 26 #professor #claire and bree #mostly cannon compliant #outlander fandom

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gordonlore · 9 months

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Rebecca Victoria (Roberts) Gordon

November 29th, 1955, in Mobile, Alabama Rebecca, “Becky” Victoria Roberts was born to a Michael and Victoria Roberts. The second born, and the only daughter of the home. She was treated like a little princess and her brothers acted like her own personal knights. Her home life was extremely nuclear and sheltered as her father worked as a Pastor at one of the many Baptist churches in their area. She believed everything her father and mother said about the world. She never doubted their word, because why would she? They were her parents and an authority figure whose job was to look after her. She grew up to have an idealist view on the world around her. Getting amazing grades in school, which fueled her love for school and sparked her journey into becoming a schoolteacher. So, when she graduated high school June 6th, 1973, and decided to pursue her dreams of teaching with a cheering scholarship to the University of Alabama Birmingham to study education. Her parents helped move her out to Birmingham; her grandparents paying for her rent and her father being the one to help her with budgeting. Everything was going to plan, and Rebecca didn’t plan to meet her future husband in a local bar on September 1st, 1975, but she couldn’t say know to the blond hair blue eyed vet who offered to buy her a drink. He was just so charming. She also definitely didn’t expect to pregnant with twins at the start of her senior year of college. God had another plan and Rebecca and Bryan moved in together trying to keep her pregnancy a secret. Rebecca couldn’t afford to lose her grandparents and parents support—so when she started to show more then she could hide she offered to elope with Bryan. Knowing that Bryan didn’t trust marriage—she knew Bryan also didn’t believe in God like she and her family did, and she empathized with why and she couldn’t force that onto him. She however asked Bryan to have a reception for after they sign the papers. So that her family could still have that celebration, even if they were going to be upset with that fact, she was pregnant and wasn’t getting married under God.

Upset didn’t cover it, but not from her grandparents, her parents. Michael and Victoria made it very clear that Rebecca had made a horrible mistake and would have to repent before God before they’d even humor coming to the “so called reception”, they berated her made her feel so small and she was so scared to call her grandparents—her brothers—yet Bryan took it upon himself to call them when Rebecca decided that they would react the same way and maybe even worse. Bryan ended up giving a nervous Rebecca the phone every time he called, sitting there being next to her, supporting her. Her grandparents where extremely supportive after Bryan explained the situation and why they were eloping, and they just wanted their granddaughter to know that they had her back; and that her parents were being cruel and stupid. Her brothers echoed her grandparents’ statement and Rebecca was able to be at ease knowing at least part of her family was going to support her. She was able to relax and when her older brother and his wife came to visit, holding boxes of baby supplies . . . including a crib. The one thing Rebecca and Bryan had been saving up to get. Forest and Janice decided to bring all their baby supplies to Rebecca and Bryan because “it’s not in God’s plan for us to have children.” Rebecca couldn’t have been more thankful for her older brother as she watched him help Bryan set up the crib in their room. She felt weight being lifted from her shoulders and nearly cried. Yet she didn’t because Janice kept her busy showing her all the baby clothes Janice had collected. Going through baby books, the resources she collected in trying and trying to have a baby that wasn’t going to come. Rebecca was more than thankful, and she didn’t know how to thank Janice. Janice asked her to name the boys or one of the boys after her father and grandfather. Janice wanted her father and grandfather to be honored in some way—and she wasn’t going to be able to do so. Weeks later passed by and Rebecca and Bryan eloped, exchanged their rings in front of the Holms and Rebecca’s family at their reception. Rebecca’s parents even bothered to show. Not wasting any time to reiterate that Rebecca and Bryan acted out of the will of God. Yet luckily for Rebecca her grandmother shut them both up quick. Emmett who came with Michael and Wilma, used their grandparents getting onto their parents to let Rebecca know he doesn’t believe a word they said. Letting Rebecca know that he is and will always be in her corner. Rebecca hadn’t felt more loved in that moment by her brother and grandparents.

January 8th, 1977, at 11:38 pm, came along and Rebecca and Bryan needed to name their twin boys, they named them, Jeremy David and Markus Ryan Gordon. Jeremy and Ryan for Jeremiah Ryan Holms and Markus and David for Janice’s grandfather and father. Rebecca ended up needing to have an emergency c-section as things quickly started to complicate with the birthing process. Rebecca was in recovery for two months. During those two months Rebecca’s self-worth plummeted as her mother came to help her and Bryan with the twins as Bryan picked up extra shifts and hours at his place of work to compensate for the time off that Rebecca had to take to recover. She wasn’t producing enough breast milk for both her sons and her mother was clear to point out how she was failing every time she had to use formula to feed her grandchildren. Rebecca started to feel like a failure as a mother and a wife the more her mother nagged in her ears. Bryan was never aware of how badly Rebecca’s mother was getting to her. He always got home late at night, but on one of his days off when Rebecca was no longer on bed rest and she was fixing up two bottles for Jeremy and Markus, he watched how Rebecca’s lips pierced together and her hands shook. Rebecca flinched as her mother said her usual tripe of how much of a failure she was. Bryan kicked Wilma out of his house that day. He took his son from Wilma’s arms and told her to leave. He quickly made Rebecca look at him. Hand to her cheek, speaking to her softly saying she wasn’t a failure and doing everything to keep her children fed. Bryan was so gentle towards her that she was able to calm down and slowly build up her confidence. Mrs. Holms only further built it up as Bryan called her to replace Wilma in their home. Mrs. Holms was quick to tell Rebecca how well she was doing, and Rebecca held onto Bryan’s praises like they were a life force for her. She built back her confidence and Bryan wasn’t slow in showing her how proud of her he was. Mrs. Holms was more than willing to watch the boys as Bryan took Rebecca out to have a night away from work and watch their boys.

March 2nd, 1980, Rebecca and Bryan’s family grow from four to five and Jeremy and Markus become big brothers. Robert Michael Gordon was brought into the world with zero complications, and named for Rebecca’s father and grandfather with hopes that her father and mother would talk with her again. She missed her parents and brother. She wanted nothing but to have her family in her life. Her parents did very little to keep communication between Rebecca and them. Rebecca pulled all the wait. That year was also the same year that Bryan was accepted into Rebecca’s high school’s Exy coach, until another more qualified individual would take over—Rebecca was excited that her husband would be working with her, and all her colleagues raved about how cute they were when they came in with their boys. The twin toddlers being the rave of the child development classes and Markus being a quiet hit with the pre-school attendant. Yet that didn’t stop Rebecca growing concerned and worried as she noticed that Bryan pulled back and was starting to become rather harsh towards her. Snapping at her more often. Giving her the cold shoulder. Nothing seemed to change that. Yet their new routine did help create a steady and safe feeling environment. Nothing would go wrong as long as they stayed like this, and Bryan started to look into quitting his second job at the hardware store. That was until Rebecca informed him that they would be expecting a sixth mouth to feed.

April 21st, 1982, Bryan Seth Gordon jr. is born. Named for Bryan as they both shared a birthday and there was no denying that Seth was Bryan’s son. All of their kids shared a resemblance with Bryan, but Seth was almost an exact copy of Bryan and that made Bryan soften a hard shell he had started to develop as troubles with money started to become an issue once more. Both Rebecca and Bryan having to work second jobs and rely on the Holms often. Rebecca and Bryan both ran the candle stick at both ends and they didn’t talk to each other more than in passing. Rebecca rarely even got to tuck Jeremy, Markus, Robert, and Seth into bed as she arrived home by the time, they were all sleeping. Bryan arrived even later but was always up before Rebecca’s alarm went off to get the boys ready and dressed before they all headed to the high school. Their routine was chaos and Rebecca and Bryan’s relationship started to wear thin. Rebecca couldn’t get Bryan to talk with her if they had days off together without it ending in Bryan frustratingly telling Rebecca that he needs some time to herself. She couldn’t talk to her husband and the father of her kids without him getting frustrated and annoyed. The only time Rebecca found Bryan happy was when he was alone with Seth. Just holding him. Talking to him about his day or some new rule changes at either of his jobs. Rebecca wanted Bryan to talk to her about those things. She wanted to have the man who she had fallen for back in her life. She felt lost, so when Bryan expressed wanting some time alone together, she was more than thankful. Worried, he’d started to regret ever being with her. She relished every moment alone that Bryan gave her.

August 8th, 1984 comes around and Rebecca, seven months pregnant, gets a call from her brother Forest letting her know that their mother, father, and little brother died in a plane crash on their way to a college visit for Emmett. Rebecca fell into a deep despair. The last conversation she had with her father was her calling a phone telling her mother and father that Seth had been born and her father just expressed disappointment that he was named after Bryan. Rebecca lost herself as she delt with the news. While every communication fell off between her and her family, she still desperately wanted her parents to love her like they had in the past. She wanted her momma to tell her how she was always going to be her baby and for her daddy to tell her how much he loved her. All of that was gone for good. Rebecca went on survival mode. She went to work, cleaned the house, went to her doctors’ appointments, and took care of the other boys all while giving minimal attention to Bryan. Rebecca’s grief ate at her for so long that when October 23rd of that year came around and Rebecca and Bryan welcomed their fifth son, Emmett Tyler, into the world she couldn’t connect with Emmett at all. Rebecca experienced “baby blues” to an extreme degree. She again went into survival mode. Bryan ended up being the one who took care of Emmett for the most part. Rebecca’s change in attitude and work ethic has caused her to be under scrutiny by her boss. Rebecca just isn’t bringing her all and it’s causing her work to suffer. One morning as she was getting ready for work, she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. She broke down crying. She looked like her momma. She looked so much like her momma, and she couldn’t handle it. She sat down on the bed crying, trying to calm down as she knew Bryan was waking up and taking care of all the boys. Yet as she was struggling to calm down, she was met with an angry and vindictive Bryan. Sat at the edge of her bed, getting close to hyper ventilating, she was struck across the face by her husband. She blinked, looked up at him and saw the anger and resentment plastered on his face as he went in on her and criticized her for how she’d been acting over the last months. When Bryan left the room Rebecca sat with a hand to where Bryan had hit her. She took a deep breath in and buried down the wave of emotions that threatened to come to the surface. She fixed herself up once more and put on a mask to appease her boss and Bryan. Rebecca and Bryan’s relationship became extremely strained after this point. They fought often and when they were not fighting the two were drunk, which led them to make decisions that neither of them would make sober.

December 20th 1986, the day Forest Victor Gordon was born and the Gordons went from seven to eight and marked the last happy birth and holiday within the Gordon household. It was quiet before the storm. Rebecca dropped her guard as she watched Bryan on again play with Jeremy(8), Markus(8), Robert(6), and trying his hardest to keep Seth(4) included. She was watching the man she fell for once again. Not the man who hit her and berated her. Yet it wasn’t all happy and nice. Janice and Forest were visiting. Janice had every problem with everything that Rebecca and Bryan were doing to run their household. Criticizing how Rebecca and Bryan let their young boys to be rambunctious and active and run around their small home. Rebecca could tell that Bryan’s patience was running thin. She could see the anger building in his eyes, and it caused her to have a growing fear. And to have a growing stress. Bryan finally snapped at Janice. His anger bubbling up over. Rebecca felt an intense fear as she slipped away into the kitchen. She tried to stay calm as she listened to her husband just yell at the top of his lungs at her sister in-law, and as soon as she got the courage to go out and try to deescalate the situation her water broke. Which worked well to deescalate the situation at hand as Bryan was snapped out of his tirade to get his wife to the hospital. Forest Victor Gordon wasn’t an abnormal birth. No, he was completely healthy, and he took after her more so than any of her other sons. Rebecca and Bryan took Forest home from the hospital just five days later and the only thing that could have made it better was for it to snow.

That Christmas was the last happy Christmas and the last time Rebecca saw her brother and sister in-law outside of letters and a phone call here and there. Rebecca was completely secluded from her family. Bryan was growing more and more miserable. Going out at night and not coming back till the next morning. Snapping at their sons when they asked the smallest questions. Rebecca was powerless as she watched Bryan shoot down Jeremy, David, Robert, or even Bryan Jr. tries to get his attention for anything. She was powerless as she watched Bryan completely ignore Emmett and Forest. His breath constantly smelled of stale beer and Rebecca felt guilty for enjoying spending most nights alone in their bed. Rebecca felt guilty for resenting the nights Bryan didn’t go out. Yet she still ended up being convinced to get drunk with Bryan and to spend a long night together with him. Rebecca didn’t think anything would come up from that night. It was only one. Nothing could come up from it. She saw how angry Bryan got at each bill that came through their door. Nothing could come up from that night. It would just make Bryan angry. And yet, something did come from that night. Just two months after that night Rebecca got clued in that something might have happened. Rebecca went to the doctors under the guise of running errands. She had to take her younger boys with her as they couldn’t be relied on to stay quiet. That appointment confirmed her suspicion, and it was a good thing that neither Emmett nor Forest could really understand nor care what was being discussed. Rebecca went on a quick grocery run knowing where everything was and coming up with a story that she just wanted to keep the house quiet for Bryan if he asked why it took so long. It took almost a month for Rebecca to come up with courage to tell Bryan there was going to be a seventh child in their family. It didn’t go well. Rebecca was talking to him in the kitchen, one of the rare, pleasant conversations that reminded her on why she fell for him. It made her feel safe and like he’d react well to the news. He didn’t. Bryan’s reaction was to take a plate and to throw it near Rebecca yelling at her. To protect her boys, she locked the back door to keep them outside till Bryan locked himself in their room or left to go drink. He left to go drink.

The situation didn’t get better. It got worse. Jeremy and Markus becoming the target of Bryan’s anger. Rebecca couldn’t stand that. She wasn’t going to allow Bryan to needlessly be cruel to her sons. Not when they did nothing wrong. Not when Bryan was angry with her. Rebecca enrolled Jeremy, Markus, Robert, and Seth into a small league Exy extracurricular so that they were out of the house. Rebecca made sure that Emmett and Forest were in her sight 24/7 and never alone with Bryan. She didn’t want his anger to be taken out on them. July 21st, 1988, Jackson Cole Gordon was born. It was early in the morning or late into the night, depending on how you looked at it. Rebecca gave birth to Jackson alone, immediately seeing that he took after Bryan almost as much as Bryan jr. did. Rebecca held off from naming him till Bryan came with the rest of the boys. Bryan barely looked at the baby in Rebecca’s arms before he told her he didn’t care and walked out to go smoke. Rebecca wanted to cry but held off as Jeremy and David, just 10 years old, walked over to look at the baby. Rebecca turned her attention to them and watched as the other boys, besides Forest who had been placed on the bed with her, crowded around her to see their brother. Rebecca named him Jackson Cole for no other reason than she liked how it sounded.

For that first year it was hell for Rebecca. She was struggling to keep up with watching all the young boys, take care of Jackson’s needs, make sure the younger two were being taken care of, etc. And then it got worse when on November 9th, 1989, Bryan gave Rebecca divorce papers. He gave her an ultimatum that she would sign the papers now or Bryan would just disappear and leave. Rebecca knew she couldn’t do this without anything from Bryan, so she signed the papers. Her parents’ voices ringing in her head calling her a failure for not making her marriage work. Going against God. She felt like a failure, and it only increased when she and Bryan finalized the divorce on April 30th, 1990, and the only form of communication Rebecca had with Bryan was the child support check that was sent every month. Rebecca went from having two jobs to three. Dipping into the attempt of a college fund for her sons to make ends meet with the jobs. Rebecca ended up having to give Jeremy and Markus more responsibility than they should have had once their dad had left them. Only seeing them for minutes at a time as she dropped them off at the house telling her to pretend no one was home if anyone knocked, telling them how to use a stove top to feed everyone. Given them instructions on how to care for Forest and Jackson. Jackson more so because he was still just two years old. Rebecca for the first time in her life completely resented her life choices and the choices that got here. She ended up getting angry and she hated being angry. She started to smoke and drink more often. As the boys all were in the school age (1993) Rebecca paid for all of them to be in the Exy little league. Until she found out that Markus, Robert, Emmett, and Forest skipped the practices and stayed at home. She wasn’t angry for long. In fact, finding out she didn’t need to pay for all her sons made her relieved. And she was more the grateful that the two carbon copies of the man who left her were out of the house during the time she had off if she had time off.

As Bryan Jr. and Jackson grew up looking more and more like their father the more Rebecca started to resent them for it. Rebecca was colder with them, confusing them both, Jackson especially. Bryan started to go by Seth by the time he turned 14 (1996) and Rebecca was more than happy to no longer have to say the name of her ex-husband. That was the year that Jeremy got a full ride scholarship to the University of Alabama for his academics and Markus was offered a scholarship for his aesthetic skills in football for the University of Georgia. Rebecca watched as Jeremy was able to coordinate his living situation to stay at home and to help her with all the kids and for him to get a job to help around. And then in the same breath for her other eldest son to pack up his things and ship of to Georgia and never come back home. She felt betrayed as much as she felt proud. She didn’t end up stopping what she was doing as she ended up needing the extra money for personal effects. She rarely held a conversation with any of her sons. Less so Seth and Jackson. She didn’t see the need to when she saw Jeremy taking care of them. And she needed to sleep. She ended up changing her kids’ emergency contact to Jeremy and she wasn’t the first one told when Robert was caught smoking marijuana at school (1998). Instead, she was confronted by Jeremy who had to pick up Robert who was suspended. Rebecca stared at them both and looked at Robert telling him to get a job so he could stay out of trouble. That caused Robert to snap at her and he yelled at her. Telling her how all he wanted was for his mom to act like a mom and how he was glad that as soon as the year was over Markus was coming to get him. Rebecca snapped. All the resentment and anger she had been feeling for years straight coming up in one fell swoop. She couldn’t believe how much like his father Robert was. And she made sure she let Robert know. She relished it as she saw the look on Robert’s face twist from anger to a deep hurt. She didn’t care that she hurt him. He deserved it for planning on leaving them all. Jeremy tried to call her out on it but she closed her bedroom door before he could even get a word out.

Rebecca after that point didn’t have any idea what her sons were into until it was too late. It was a 1999 October evening; Rebecca was working the night shift at a local restaurant when she found Jeremy blowing up her phone. She grits her teeth as she explained to her boss, she needed to call her son back. When she calls Jeremy back, he immediately answers frantically explaining how Seth was found unconscious in an alleyway blocked from their house. How he had overdosed on something. Jeremy was talking to frantically and it sounded like he was crying but all she got out of the call was that she needed to come down to the hospital and loose hours of pay. She was not happy. As she listened to the doctors, she found out her son had overdosed on Heroin and was “thankfully doing well”. Rebecca wanted nothing to do with Seth at this point. Yet she couldn’t say that to the doctors. So, she just looked over at Jeremy who looked ashamed but not for Seth but for himself. She told the doctors to differ to Jeremy. She had to go back to work to keep the lights, water, and just everything running at home. Jeremey tried to protest her leaving but she told him she trusted him and left. She wouldn’t find out what had happened till she walked in on Jeremy and Seth talking with each other at the kitchen table. Seth looked like he had been crying, and Jeremy had a prescription in his hand. Jeremy took Seth to a shrink. One of her sons was seeing a shrink. She could hardly believe it and walked out and moved onto leaving for work.

Everything was uneventful from that point. All her sons at one point left for college except her youngest who looked like his father and was in his last years of high school. At this point Jeremy had left this house behind and moved into the more high-class part of Birmingham as he got a job promotion. Rebecca was left with the son that was the last straw for her son to leave. And she made that known for Jackson. When She found Jackson hanging out with his friend “Matthew” and catching them as they kissed, she completely lost it on him. But not before telling Matthew to leave and that he wasn’t welcome in her house. She went on a completely homophobic rant at Jackson telling him he wasn’t to bring Matthew to her house or to speak with Matthew at all. She would have gotten away with it too if Jackson hadn’t told Seth what had happened when he was away. Seth picked his first fight with his mother. He completely lost it on her yelling at her that she must be so deranged to think she had any say over his life when she made it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with any of them. They looked too much like dad. He told her if he found out that she continued to speak to Jackson like that he’d make her life a living hell. Then the summer of 2006 started. Rebecca came from work, and she immediately went to go lie down in her bedroom. Take in the quiet that was soon to end knowing that Seth would be coming to interrupt her life. She hadn’t thought anything was a miss and fell asleep.

Then she was woken by sirens outside and as she annoyingly came out of her bedroom and walked past the only other occupied room in the house Rebecca froze as she saw Seth holding onto Jackson. Her heart stopped for a moment and before she could fully understand what was going on a pounding came against her door and Rebecca went to answer it. She felt numb as she pointed the EMS to where her sons were. She watched as they took Jackson away and Rebecca just motioned for them to let Seth take Jackson away. She couldn’t go with them. Not when she resented them both from the moment Bryan was truly gone forever. She didn’t go to see Jackson in the hospital after the fact either. When Seth came with Dr. Nattalee Monroe-Wilson to collect Jackson’s things Rebecca didn’t argue. She knew that met she wouldn’t be seeing Jackson and Seth around anymore. Rebecca was alone. Completely alone.

This would have marked the end of Rebecca’s story line if suddenly she hadn’t seen her ex-husband’s name plastered on the TV at the sport bar she worked at and saw her sons face staring at her. Seth Gordon, Palmetto Starting Striker, dead at 25, overdose. If Rebecca could have felt anything she would have stormed out of there. But she had drinks to sell, and it wasn’t like he was going to amount to anything anyways. He was just like his father. She was called in to collect his ashes. She wasn’t driving all the way to South Carolina to pick up the ashes of the embarrassment they called her son. She stopped answering calls from that number. She stopped being her son’s mother.

Bryan Seth Gordon Senior Jeremy David Gordon Markus Ryan Gordon Robert Michael Gordon Bryan Seth Gordon Jr. Emmett Tyler Gordon Forest Victor Gordon Jackson Cole Gordon Matthew Brice Wilson Ophellia Eurydice Wilson-Gordon Dion Lysander Wilson-Gordon Orion Othello Wilson-Gordon

#all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #tfc #rebecca victoria gordon #bryan seth gordon #seth gordon #the six brothers of seth gordon #the gordon family history #all for the game fanfic #all for the game headcannons #mostly cannon compliant #cross posted on ao3

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kquil · 4 months

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DIVORCING ORION BLACK : DISCLAIMER (PLEASE READ)

✦ this is a fix-it-fic for marauders era fans so it won’t be cannon compliant

✦ i will provide a explanation of the changes in chapters that need it for those of you who want some clarification on plot diversions but please feel free to skip those if you simply want to just read the story as is

✦ there will be very minor romance in this fic because i want to focus on the ‘fix-it’ aspect, although there will be hints to some pairings mostly in a humorous way

✦ if you think i've made a mistake when it comes to the happenings of the timeline, i don’t care, the marauders era is already very vague and this is my semi-retelling of it; if you don’t like it, you don’t have to continue reading

✦ reader is a female and i will be using she/her pronouns when referring to her (im so sorry my non-binary and male-gender darlings!)

✦ i will be avoiding the use of Y/N as well as avoiding all mentions of physical traits to prevent loss of immersion — reader is YOU and it doesn’t matter if you're curvy, slim, light skinned, dark skinned, in between, short, tall, have curly hair, straight hair, wavy hair, have fins or have fairy wings! it doesn’t matter because i’m going to try my hardest to be as inclusive as possible by not mentioning any of that!

✦ im all up for constructive criticism but please keep unnecessarily mean and passive-aggressive comments to yourself; if you want to provide criticism, i encourage you to re-read your comment before pressing send

✦ because of changes in the timeline, there will also be some changes to character personalities and actions, i mean, it’s only natural right? different circumstances create different people, if this bothers you then you’re free to stop reading at any time

✦ i know i just made a whole spiel of reader being YOU but i will be giving her some distinct personality traits and a past— it’s unavoidable since i want the story line to go a certain way and it requires a particular character to be able to do that (in my eyes) so i guess reader can also be easily read as an OC of some kind

✦ if you haven’t already guessed, this is inspired by many of those reincarnation/isekai/do-over mangas XD

✦ i am also not a professional writer and i have many other commitments outside of writing so im afraid updates will be very slow, however, i plan on having each chapter move the story forward in some way, even if an update feels like a filler chapter aka i promise to make each update worth it for you darlings

✦ lets all have fun on this journey and help our favourite boys get the happier lives they truly deserve

DIVORCING ORION BLACK MASTERLIST →

#sirius black #regulus black #walburga black #harry potter fix it fic #marauders fix it fic #the marauders era #hp marauders #remus lupin #james potter #marauders #peter pettigrew #marauders era #the marauders #orion black #divorcing orion black series #dob : series

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sneezeplease · 3 months

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Angel Undone

Hello fellow queers or Haz/bin enjoyers, and welcome to the results of my poll!! I had a ton of people choose option 2, and while I'm such a sucker for Huskerdust this fic kind of got away from me and this is mostly Angel whump.

Tw: Cannon-compliant Valentino Abuse, slight mess, references to ep. 4

Enjoy 2k words of Angel with a bad cold, although he does get some help in the end//

“Amorcito! Dressing room, now!" Despite how lightheaded he felt, Angel struggled to get up out of the bed, grateful that he was just doing a simple gangbang. His hands were shaking far too much to be able to untie anything, and he doubted the other “actors” were anything but disgusted with him right now. The spider tried his best to seem unafflicted, but it was rather hard when even standing up caused the room to spin. He ran a hand through his hair, and must have looked pitiful enough that some new actor helped him to stand.

“Are you okay?” the guys voice was deep, and although he had long since made an effort to forget the name and face of the dozens of people he worked with daily, he remembered starkly where the guy was from, his breath catching in his throat and causing him to cough weakly.

Charlie getting yelled at, looking so apologetic and teary-eyed. Valentino turned back to Angel, Angel knowing he had caused her so much pain for no reason, that he had led another one of his friends to be hurt by the cruel man who used to be so kind to him. That was when Angel really knew he couldn’t stay like this anymore, that he needed to fight back in the smallest ways so Val could lose interest.

“Not really, can you- help me to the wall?” His voice was quieter than it ever was while he was performing, but he really didn’t want to get the man sick after he had been at least decent to Angel. He knew that the only person in the industry who really liked him was Valentino, and he was fucking fine with that. He had to be, there was no way he could change that when Val was so fucking controlling.

[in the back of his fever-addled mind, Anthony was able to recognize that he had never wanted this life. The sinner was manipulated into it, and his feeling of helplessness is what caused his deeply rooted desire to forget everything, to numb the pain of his bleeding heart for even just a moment]

"Here… you look way… out of it. Did ya start using again?” Despite his aching throat, Angel scoffed loudly.

“Of course I didn’t! It’s just- some cold I picked off from the prin— from where I live, alright? it’s nothing else!” He didn’t bother to say that he had sworn to his best friend that he could stay away from drugs and didn't feel the need to explain something like that in such an open environment. Instead, Angel tried to stumble forward to the door. He was so- so close, when that terrible tickle got even worse in his head. His stuffiness switched to a twitching, lingering itch, and despite rubbing it slowly, it did nothing to help.

The spider felt his breath catch, almost like a moan, as he began to sneeze? No, he wasn’t sneezing yet, but it felt like he had to sneeze so much that it was making him gasp and whine, teasing him much worse than an orgasm ever had. “Uhhhhh’kSHIEEwww!! Uhhhh’PTChhh!! Ehhhhh’Tshihhh!” he managed to bring an arm up to sneeze into, only moving it down to grab the doorknob. “It doesn’t sound like any cold, but if that's what you want it to be it can-” the man shrugged before walking away from Angel, leaving the spider sinner to take a deep breath in. he knew what was waiting in the dressing room, but he also knew that he had to face Valentino. Hopefully, it would be quickly over with, but Angel Dust wasn’t going to count on it.

He opened the door nearly silently, then winced as he saw Valentino sitting down on his chaise lounge, smoking like he always did. “Angel Dust, someone isn’t looking too good. Tell me, did you finally come to your senses? Or is this just the consequence of being around such filth at that damned hotel?” Before Angel could even speak, Valentino’s face twisted into something sinister and angry, the rage he usually concealed displayed as he stood up and walked closer to the other.

“Perhaps… you’ve gotten terribly close to Lucifer’s bimbo daughter, haven’t you? Or the old-timey overlord that Vox can’t stand? You probably got sick from whoring yourself out again, without my permission!” Angel winced at the accusations, his arms crossing over his body to defend himself. Despite how much progress he ever thought he had made, it always faded away in this forsaken dressing room, where his confidence and self-esteem had been destroyed so many times before.

Still, Angel knew the repercussions of not filling the silence, knew the blows he would be getting for being cowardly if he didn’t even attempt an excuse. Between the fever and the panicking, all Angel could manage was a shitty, overused excuse:

“Val, I didn’t mean to get sick, I swear!”

“Really? You didn’t leave me just so you could find some other bitch to control you? To make you feel good?” His leash materialized suddenly as Valentino yanked him closer. The pressure from the collar on Angel's throat caused him to cough harshly, whining as he finally got his breathing under control.

“I haven’t! I just help out at the hotel, that’s all! Someone probably wandered in while— while!!” He tried every trick he could think of to stop himself, even putting his tongue to the roof of his mouth. constrained as he was, he knew he was too close to Valentino to not sneeze on him.

“While?” Valentino blew a puff of smoke in his face, and that was what did it. Any control Angel had fought for was quickly taken away from him, the usually clingy scent from his cigarette now invading his nostrils and causing him to lose his breathing.

“HEhhhHHH’GSHUEWWWW!!! EHHHHHH’TCHuhhhh!!! HAhhhhh’CHIEWWWWW!!! AHhhhhh”PSHOOOO!! Uhhhhhh’TSHUEWWWWW!!! IHHHHHH’KSHIEHHHH!!” The sneezes caused him to pull against the restraints with each one, and they were definitely loud enough to hear from outside the room. Valentino first looked intrigued when Angel seemed to be moaning, but now he looked nothing short of disgusting.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to Snehhhh-EIhhhhh’TCHIEHHHH!! HIHHHHHH’KSHUHHHH! EHHH’PTSHUEWWWW!!” The tickle was far too overwhelming for Angel to even attempt to cover or hide them, and all he could really do was sneeze, the perfume from the smoke setting his nose aflame.

“Fine!” The chains released as Valentino threw them aside. That caused Angel to stumble and fall, barely being able to shift and fall on the couch, even if it was face first. “I’ll call off the team for today, but you only get three fucking days Angel! Three days to get rid of that disgusting illness.” The door slamming shut only made Angel's headache worse, but at least he could get dressed now, right?

He tried to get dressed for fifteen minutes, having to pause between his skirt and shirt to muffle another wrenching fit. Each sneeze was taking away energy Angel Dust simply didn’t have and caused him to cough afterwards. The usually high-spirited spider was barely functioning, and he grabbed a black robe to cover himself with, as an added layer of heat (not that he could keep warmth well anyways).

Angel dust isn't quite sure how he got back to the hotel, but the spider was close to tears when he finally opened the door. His entire body felt like it was freezing and overheating at the same time, the fever that had given his fur a notable pink flush getting worse as he pushed his body to the -

"Angel? What happened? Charlie came up to him, her hand hovering like she waited to support him but waiting for his consent, and Angel only pulled himself together long enough to give her a plastic smile.

“Nothing Toots. It was just a long day at work-" his second set of arms appeared again to steady himself as he tried to hold off the sneeze long enough to make sure he wouldn’t get Charlie-

“hhh’EhhhhhhTch’ieWwwww!!” The one time he had wanted not to make an entrance, and his body couldn’t even listen to him. his sneezes were typically over the top, and while he didn’t find the sensation good or bad, he wished that just once he could sneeze quietly.

“Damn you! Are you feeling alright?” And now Charlie sounded way too sympathetic. Angel had to resist the desire to bang his head against one of his arms, he knew there was no way to hide his sickness now.

So he did what came most easy to him when feeling his shittiest: put on a good performance. “I feel great Tootz! Just amazing, ya know?” he racked his brain to think of something, anything, that could make him sneeze like this, but besides one that could get him kicked out of the hotel, nothing else came to mind.

“You look ill, my effeminate fellow!” Alastor was smiling like usual, even though Charlie was currently attempting to help Angel to the foyer couch. He fell on it dramatically, batting his eyelashes a couple of times.

“I’m not sick, just had an extra-long day of work. Val’s going on some “honeymooning” weekend with that TV head and the other one, so he made me work for my time off. Nothing I can’t handle, I’ll be fine with some rest–” his voice cut off at the end of his perfect performance, the tones and inflections making his piss poor excuses actually believable. Angel couldn’t even remember the last time he felt this sick and miserable from something other than trying to quit cold turkey. The spider couldn’t even turn his head before coughing his lungs out, and it must have sounded bad enough that Al slipped back into the shadows, leaving just the two of them.

“Here you go Angel,” Charlie gently placed a cup of water into his hands, which the sinner gulped down eagerly.

“Thanks Toots.” Angel couldn’t keep up any sort of act anymore, and he opened his eyes slightly to see Charlie hesitating to run a hand through his hair. “You are a lifesaver, I tell ya.” he drank the water as fast as he could, gulping it down. It barely did anything for his nose, but at least now he could actually say a few words.

“I could get you some medicine, or an ice pack, or a heating pack but Nifty took that somewhere so it might take awhile, and actually-a-thermometer-would-” Angel laughed softly, but he appreciated how much care Charlie showed to him. Right now, after he had just been belittled and mocked by Val, most of his cares flew out of the window, including any personal touch.

Charlie had just felt his forehead and compared it to her own when Angel felt his nose twitching once again. He wished that it would just stop, that he could force all of these aches to go away and just be able to sleep. “Toots, ya should try to m-move…” Charlie pulled back quickly, although she seemed confused as to the reason. “Is something wrong? I can get you an ice pack or more water–” Charlie’s worried ramblings were cut by Angel lifting a finger, his breath catching a couple of times. It sounded ragged and desperate, but he couldn’t control it. “Ahhhhh’Kihhh’SCHOOooo!! Hahhhh’TCHIewww!! Iehhhh’KCHUHHHH!! HeHHH’SHuHhhhh!!” The fit even sounded tired, and Angel groaned lightly as he did so. “Angel, are you sure you don’t want some help to your room? I could see if Vaggie or-” Charlie stopped talking, looking over Angel's head. All the sinner could do was grumble, hiding his face in the pillow.

“It’s fine toots, I’ll just fall asleep right here. No need to mess with that room stuff,” A deeper chuckle came from behind Angel's back, and he didn’t need to look back to tell Husker was there. He hid further into the pillow, determined to keep another person from seeing him like this, especially one that Angel had gotten so close to.

#snz #snz kink #snzblr #haz/bin hot/el #angel/dust #snez #snzfic

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rurikkirur · 1 month

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My fanfics: A summary!

Hello! I decided to make a post and pin it here with all the links to my fics, in case you guys want to check it out! So here it goes:

#1: Draco Malfoy and The Aeternum Caput (DMATAC) | Drarry

Type: Long fic, still a WIP. There are 56/70 chapters posted. Currently with 386k words, rough estimate of 500k when finished. Rough estimate for finishing is August/Semptember 2024. Updates every Sunday.

Setting: Post-War, Auror Harry and Private Investigator Draco Malfoy. Mostly cannon compliant up to the end of the war (EWE - Epilogue what epilogue).

Genres: Mystery, suspense, investigation, drama, romance.

Main TW: PTSD effects, torture, psycological torture, emotion/psicological abuse, mention to drugs/drug equivalent, near death, blood and injuries.

Summary:

Harry Potter was trying to live his life after the War. He had his best friends, he had a job he loved, and a purpose in life. And he had gladly gotten over his past obsession with a certain Malfoy, and didn't even think of his old rival anymore. Or at least that was what he though, until his boss demanded he found private investigator Draco Malfoy to help out with a misterious Haunted House. And the Draco Malfoy he found was not the Draco Malfoy he remembered, and he had no clue what happened.

Draco Malfoy was trying to live his life after the War. He had found a support, he had a job he loved, and a purpose in life. And he had gladly gotten over his past crush with a certain Chosen One, and didn't even think of his old rival anymore. Or at least it was what he though, until an Auror Harry Potter barged in his office trying to hire him to help out with a misterious Haunted House. And the Harry Potter he found was just the Harry Potter he remembered, and his heart could hardly bear it.

Links: AO3, Wattpad

#2: Beautiful Things | Drarry

Type: One-shot, inspired by this artwork by Lyrablack1883. Completed, 5k words.

Setting: AU, sheriff Harry and criminal Draco.

Genres: 'Old-west', action, romance.

Main TW: Secondary character death, blood and injuries.

Summary:

What if Harry Potter was a Sheriff and Draco Malfoy a wanted criminal? What if Harry found out that maybe Draco Malfoy was not entirely at fault? What if instead of capturing the criminal, Harry had his heart captured by the criminal instead?

Links: AO3, Wattpad

#3: Home | Satosugu

Type: One-shot, contain spoilers of the manga Ch 236. Completed, 3k words.

Setting: Time-travel fix-it, second chances.

Genres: Drama, romance, hurt/comfort.

Main TW: Angst, SPOILERS!

Summary:

Some people say that home is a person. The last thought Gojo Satoru had was "I want to go home." He didn’t close his eyes, but he knew it was over. But the sky shifted and then he was seventeen again. And he knew that there was only one thing that mattered, so he raced to get back home.

Links: AO3, Wattpad.

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dancingtotuyo · 19 days

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12. love with urgency but not with haste

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: you adjust to life with a newborn. Joel finally gets to tell you something

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed. Spoilerish for TLOU 2

Chapter Warnings: angst, hurt & comfort and no comfort?, depression, anxiety, vague/brief references to postpartum recovery, fluff

Notes: as always, a huge shout out to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblinand and @janaispunk for beta reading.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3533

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

The newborn stage with Willa is much different than it was with Carter. The early months after Carter’s birth are a blur in your memory. Maria practically moved in with you. The nights you managed to fall asleep, she roused you when he woke up. When you couldn’t sleep, she had to pull you out of whatever world you’d drifted into. You remember feeling like a bad mother at the time. Who isn’t in tune with their child. What mother doesn’t go running at their first cries? But the moment he was in your arms, he joined you in the far off places, tethered you to some semblance of reality. A growing reminder that you couldn’t get too lost.

Most of what you remember those first few months are feelings, his baby soft skin, the fresh scent of a newborn that seemed to be present whether you lived at the end of the world or not.

If anyone asks Maria about Carter’s first few months, she sits there for a minute in silence before answering. It’s hard to put into words what she saw. She’d worried about you, made sure you ate, and cleaned yourself up. While you spent much of your day with a far away look in your eyes, the moment she placed Carter in your arms, you were attentive to his every need with ease. You didn’t seem totally present to the world, but you were totally aware of what your child needed as long as he was in your arms. You would interact with the world for an hour or so at a time, like your body knew it needed to for survival. Eventually, your hours of cognition grew. The night you were shushing Carter before Maria could even get out of bed, a weight lifted off her chest. Two days later, she slept in her bed for the first time in three months.

With Willa, everything feels more concrete. You know better than to chalk it up to being in the present. You’re more present. The world is spinning around you at a hundred miles per hour and you’re keeping up with all of it even with the exhaustion of healing and caring for a newborn. Joel is up for every feeding, pulling her out of the crib, hushing her softly, his hand spanning her entire back before he places her gently in your arms. You laugh together when she nods off, milk drunk and groan in frustration when she refuses to go back to sleep, and you remember all of it. The way her little tongue pokes out as her tiny clenched fists stretch over her head. The way Joel’s crows’ feet cut deep creases into his eyes even beneath the sleep deprivation. The way your heart fills with warmth.

On more than one occasion, you wake up to find Carter with his face pressed to the bars of the crib, watching over his baby sister as she sleeps. When you say his name, quiet enough to not wake Willa, he spins around with a grin and jumps in bed with you, wiggling between you and Joel. When Willa wakes up, Carter lies flat on his back as you place Willa on his chest. Sometimes he talks to her, filling her in on his dreams from the night before. Other times, he makes funny faces, trying to get her to smile. A few times, he just kisses her head gently and lays with her in silence. Together, You and Joel watch them in awe.

Ellie visits when Joel is out of the house. After getting through her nerves of holding such a tiny person, she takes to Willa with more ease than you expect. She and Carter take turns telling her about space and dinosaurs. Willa stares at them with wide brown eyes, a captive audience for Ellie and Carter’s shared interests. She doesn’t ask about Joel. You don’t offer any specifics. Anything she learns comes from Carter telling a story or your broad, off handed remarks about plans for the day or week. You can tell that she’s pulled away from you some, but you trust she’ll come to you when she’s ready. What’s most important to you right now, is that she’s still in your life.

As much as you hate that Joel never told you, a part of you is grateful he never asked you to keep the secret, and you feel guilty for thinking that. The anger ebbs and flows through you over the entire situation. Ellie deserved the truth, but you understand the fear of loss better than anyone.

On the days when her assignments allow it, Ellie takes Carter with her, giving you some quiet time. You usually use the time to nap. Sometimes, you lay on the couch, Willa’s small body curled on top of you, sun streaming through the living room window, warming your bodies.

Willa joins you and Joel on your evening walks once they resume, though they’re usually pre dinner walks now. She is usually strapped to Joel’s chest in a makeshift sling. The sight of her tiny body asleep against her father quickly becomes one of your favorite sights. No matter what, you have the assurance that your daughter knows the safest place in the world is in her daddy’s arms.

“What’s got you grinning?” Joel chuckles, squeezing your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

“I’m imagining what it would be like to be her.” You smile, nodding toward Willa. “All curled up against your chest.”

He smiles, hand covering her entire back. “I would hope you have a pretty good idea of that by now.” He tugs you closer to him.

You laugh, hands landing on his waist, clutching the fabric of the sling wrap at his sides. “Not strapped to you like that. It seems so cozy and safe.”

“I hope that’s how you feel right now.” He pulls you in close, Willa squeezed softly between you.

“It is,” you nod.

“Good,” Joel kisses your cheek. He looks so content, so at ease. It all suits him so well, like he was made to be right here, in Jackson, in this moment with you. His curls play in the soft, June breeze. Willa’s tuft of soft baby hair does the same as it peaks out of the sling.

Willa squirms slightly between you, drawing both of your attentions until she finds a more agreeable spot. Joel chuckles. “I think it’s time to get my girls inside. I think someone is going to be ready to eat soon.”

Joel pulls you to his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You hum softly, letting your body melt into his, drunk on the warm air and fading sunshine. Ellie sits on the front porch with Carter when you round the corner. Their favorite astronomy book sits between them. If you couldn’t hear them, you’d think they were having some serious discussion, not trying to decide which constellation would defeat which in hand to hand combat.

“Solving the world's problems?” You smile at them.

“No, Mommy!” Carter laughs.

Ellie stiffens immediately as you feel Joel stop behind you. “Ellie.” He nods at her.

She averts her gaze, refusing to acknowledge him. You don’t have to turn around to see the hurt he’s trying to conceal. He deserves the cold shoulder, and he knows it.

“Did Willa enjoy her walk, Daddy?” Carter slides off the swing, rushing over to the two of you.

“She slept through most of it,” Joel chuckles. Ellie shifts her whole body away from the four of you. He pretends not to notice. “Let’s go inside, Buddy.” He holds out his hand.

Carter nods, taking it, but looks back at Ellie before they head inside. “See you tomorrow, Ellie?”

She nods. “Of course.”

The door clicks shut, leaving just the two of you. You ease onto the swing next to her. She doesn’t turn to you, doesn’t attempt to make eye contact. You sit back, waiting for her to say something, or leave, but you get the feeling she’s ready to talk about it.

“I could have.”

“Could have what?”

“Solved the world’s problems.”

You suck in a deep breath, the carelessness of your earlier words hitting you. “Even if they had figured out how to make a cure,” you say.

“They did. I saw everything!” She clenches her fist.

“You saw theories, and lab experiments.”

“Ones that they said worked.”

“Even successful lab experiments go wrong in practice.”

Ellie shifts in her seat, hunched over her knees, but she’s not running away from you.

Your fingers find the end of her short hair. She’s continued to trim it since you did the initial chop.

“The infected would still be infected. People would still hunt each other down, grab for power. Everything that was built is gone. The world can’t go back to how it was.”

“So we’re doomed? My immunity means nothing?”

“No,” you grab her arm, the one with the bite mark. The outline of a fern is tattooed over the inside of her forearm now. She’s talked about filling it in, cover the bite with it. “It means that immunity is possible. That maybe one day humans will adapt and evolve to fight Cordyceps. It’s hope.”

“Hope feels pretty damn shitty when your friends are dying.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does,” you sigh, setting her arm down.

Silence settles between you. Birds chirp. Bees buzz around the flowers in front of your house even as the sun fades behind the mountains.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive him.”

“You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry about it too.” Her head whips around, brown eyes sparkling with tears. You give you a somber smile, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He shouldn’t have lied to you. I know you gave him every opportunity to tell you.”

There’s a soft nod to her head that grows with each up and down.

“Whether you ever forgive him is up to you, but you will always have me, okay?”

Ellie lets out a sigh of relief, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as her arms wrap tightly around your shoulders. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Ellie.” You squeeze her against you. “Like you’re my own child.”

Her voice is muffled against your shoulder, but you still hear the world clear as day. “I love you too.”

You lose track of time, but you sit with Ellie until she is ready to go. Once she stands, she lingers, keeping conversation. You smile at her. “You’re welcome to stay for supper.”

She seems to think about it for a second, eyes drifting to the door that keeps her separated from Willa and Carter… and Joel. You see it in her face, she misses it. Forcing a weak smile on her lips, she squares her shoulders some. “I think it's better if I don’t. Not tonight at least.”

“It’s an open invitation. Same as always. You’ll-”

“Always have a seat at your table.” She finishes with a real smile this time.

“Exactly.”

“Thank you.” She says, and then she’s walking across the street to her house.

Willa is squirming in Joel's arms when you get inside, rooting against Joel’s cheek in search of food. He laughs with baby drool splotching across his chin. “Don’t think I’m gonna be much help there, Wildflower.”

You laugh, arm’s instantly stretching out to take her. “Hand her here.”

He kisses her cheek before doing so, placing a kiss on your cheek as well. “I’ll start on dinner.”

You hum in appreciation. “You’re a good man.”

“When I want to be,” Joel calls over his shoulder as you settle on the couch. Carter colors at the coffee table in front of you, updating you on his day at school as you nurse Willa. Life feels good, settled with Joel in the kitchen and your children around you. The only thing missing is Ellie, and you’re hopeful that she’ll be back soon.

Life carries on much the same, the five of you settling into a routine, a dance of sorts. Ellie still avoids dinners both at your house and Sunday’s at Tommy and Maria’s. You see Joel searching for any way to make things right, but you know what he can’t admit. There’s nothing he can do. An apology might help, but Ellie has to be ready to forgive him, and she’s a long way off.

The summer is slow and sweet like honey. Willa doesn’t seem to get that memo because you swear you blink and she grows. She begins to sleep more throughout the night, which is a welcome change for both you and Joel. She smiles and laughs now, and you swear it is the most treasured sound. If she's awake and fed, someone is making her giggle. You soak it all in, every second, stopping to commit the moments to your memory.

Willa’s feedings increase to every four hours at the beginning of August, just as the bouquets of wildflowers Joel brings you begin to grow in size and color. They’re hitting their peak a little bit later this year, but you’re thankful for it. You should have just enough time to enjoy a short afternoon there, just you and Joel. While getting on a horse still sounds like the least appealing right now, you’re willing to endure it for the beautiful peace of the meadow. You just have to get Joel to agree.

You’re lying next to him in bed. He’s angled against the headboard, reading a book about space so he can keep up with Carter… and Ellie. Crickets chirp through your open bedroom window, ceiling fan spinning above you. The summer has been hot, but thankfully, it cools down at night, cool enough to tolerate Joel’s hand on your inner thigh just above your knee, drawing little circles absentmindedly against your skin.

You’re in that matching pajama set that Joel loves. Nothing fancy, just a thin shirt and shorts, not particularly sexy by any means, but you catch the way his pupils dilate every time you wear it. You wore it intentionally tonight, not to seduce him necessarily, at three months postpartum, you still don’t feel quite ready for sexual activity, but you were hoping to make him a little more open to taking you outside the wall.

Your little expeditions outside had quickly died once he learned of your pregnancy, not that you were very interested at that point either, feeling slow and uncomfortable, but you have an inkling that he might be resistant at first.

“Joel?” You roll onto your stomach, hand spreading across his stomach and chest.

His eyes dart to yours, suspicion crawling over his face as he chimes back with an antiquated “Yes, dear?”

You crinkle your face. “What are we? A sitcom couple in the 50’s?”

He chuckles as he dog ears the book, setting it on the nightstand. He’s careful to keep a cap on his volume so he doesn’t wake Willa sleeping in the corner. “You want something.” It’s a statement, not a question.

You narrow your eyes at him, making his head tip back with another chuckle. His large hands slide over your body, guiding you to straddle his lap. There’s still an ache in your pelvic floor with the stretch, making you wonder if you’ll actually be able to withstand the horseback ride, but you want to go lay in the wildflowers with Joel like you did last year.

“You okay, Sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” you say, and the ache is slowly easing away.

Joel’s hands roam your exposed thighs, kneading at the extra weight you’re carrying from the pregnancy. He loves it all, the extra pieces of you available to his hands now. Joel hums, still suspicious.

“You have the day off tomorrow, we should go see the wildflowers.”

Joel raises an eyebrow. “What about Willa?”

“We can make it there and back before she needs to be fed, and Maria already said she could watch both of the kids.”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I want to go.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Joel meets your eyes with stern concern, letting you know there’s no room except for the absolute truth.

“Joel-”

“I’m not taking you out there unless I know you’ll be okay.” There’s something more than concern in his features now. Is that fear? “We’ve never had any issues out there, but I’m not going to risk putting you in harm's way if you’re not ready.”

You let out a long sigh. He takes one of your hands in his, kissing your fingers gently. “The ride there and back will be difficult. I haven’t been on a horse in months and I’m still a bit sore at times.”

Joel lets out a long sigh, rolling the idea through his mind, working through the logistics. You can tell, he wants to take you. “I’m not sure, Darlin.”

“We’ve been going on walks for weeks.”

“Because that’s comparable to running for your life after riding on horseback.”

“Joel.”

“Promise me you won’t slow up if something happens, and you’ll let me know if you need to turn around.”

A smile spreads across your face. “Cross my heart.”

He smiles at you and you know you’ve won. “Okay.”

Joel spreads the blanket out in the meadow as you take in the smattering of color sprawling around you. They’re more vibrant than last year, having had more rain this spring and summer. In the distance, a woodpecker knocks at the trunk of a tree. Dragonflies chase after each other as the sun soaks into your skin.

Joel’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his front. He rests his chin on your shoulder as the two of you sway in the gentle breeze. “How you feelin?” he presses a kiss into the crook of your neck.

You lean back against him, tilting your head toward the sun to soak it in. “Like I had a baby three months ago and then rode a horse.”

“Think you can make it to the ground?”

“Not sure I’ll be able to make it back up,” you laugh as Joel helps you ease to the ground.

“Makes two of us,” Joel chuckles, sitting down.

You lounge against him, both of you enjoying the sounds of nature and the peace around you. It’s hot, the sun beating down unencumbered, but neither of you minds. Neither of you tries to distance yourself from the other’s body heat. The gentle breeze floats over your skin. The two of you watch as a yellow butterfly lands on your boot, easing its wing open and shut before taking back off. Just like last summer, it feels magical here. Like you can forget the rest of the world and its dangers and simply be present.

Joel stretches his legs and then he’s pulling backward so that you’re both fully stretched out on the blanket. Your jean clad legs tangle with each other as you nuzzle into his side. His fingers play over your shoulder blades, exposed by your razorback top.

You’re pulled back to just over a year ago, when he brought you here for the first time, the words he almost said, the ones you wouldn’t let him say, and how much life has changed since then. The losses, the gains, Willa. Your heart has opened so much.

Joel nudges you onto your back, lips nipping in your neck, just under your earlobe, and down your jaw. You laugh, sun dazed and relaxed. He lets out a content huff that spreads into a deep chuckle as his hand sprawls over your abdomen. You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

You see that look again. The same one from last year, the one you’ve seen every day since. He looks at you like you hold the world in your hands as the sun glistens off his deep brown eyes, You feeling it radiating off of him in waves, surging toward the surface.

His thumb runs over your bottom lip. “Gonna let me say it this time, Sweetheart?”

Your head lilts softly, absorbing him and everything about this moment. The way nature seems to hold its very breath in anticipation as the breeze stops and the critters go silent. You push back one of his curls with your thumb, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as a small ball of energy forms in your stomach.

“I’m not gonna stop you.”

He smiles, the chuckle in his chest taking its time to reach your ears. He savors it, much like you just did, taking in everything about you in this moment. The tilt of your head, the light in your eyes. You’ve been his, but you’re giving him all of you in this moment. He’s not going to take it for granted.

“I love you.”

All the anxiety you feared would manifest, melts away, swept away as the breeze rustles through the meadow again. Pure, unbridled joy cascades through your body until it bubbles over into your face, thrumming in your veins as it manifests in the purest laugh at your lips.

“I love you, Joel.”

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